My Funny Valentine
by flipstahhz
Summary: Yamato's your typical troubled musician. Sora's your mysterious jazzy bartender. When he offers her the chance to play his pseudo wife, she accepts. In the process, fooling their family, friends and inevitably...themselves.
1. Chapter One

Written: 14.o2.o6

**(a/n)**

Yes, another Sorato. This time, it's my last. On this site my first story written _was_ Sorato…but I deleted it cause it was an embarrassment and really ignorantly written considering it was my first story. I guess I'll always be a Sorato lover at heart. It's easier writing Takari, but then again the Sorato I just completed was full of angst.

It's ironic how I put this story up on Valentine's Day. I was searching through my old classical jazz songs and that's where I came across this song by Frank Sinatra. Also, this title is used for one of the episodes of Cowboy Bebop.

Therefore, I do not own the song ' My Funny Valentine.'

This is something different that I've been wanting to do…you'll understand as this story proceeds. But…there will be some typical clichés in it. Then again, romance **is** cliché. Haha

So sit back and enjoy it ;D

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter One**

**It had been** a while since Yamato Ishida had been selfish in acquiring time for himself. For many weeks his band and he were hurled around to the main cities of Japan, performing their ever so well-known gigs. Now, that he was back in Odaiba, it was time to lavish in freedom that he had darn right earned. The other members of the band were most likely clubbing in one of the night discotheques, while Yamato – on the other hand - had declined their invitation earlier. He already had reservations for how he was going to spend the night. He wasn't in the mood of monitoring the loud throbbing music and sweaty clashing bodies on the dance floor. He wanted a peaceful night. Yes, tranquility was always hard to achieve for him…

Though, tranquility is what _everyone_ wanted.

The moonlight rained over the twenty year old man, causing his tousled blond hair to almost appear white. His solitary figure evaded from the noisy streets of Odaiba into a dark lonesome alleyway. Not many people knew about his little sanctuary he had conjured up – the place where he would reside. That, he was relieved about. Peace of mind. Away from the crowds of people, away from the paparazzi and the not so endearing media.

He stepped into the bar, pushing up his dingy shades higher up his nose. From one whiff of the spoiled air he could taste the aroma of cigarettes. As the last time he had come here, the joint was lightly crowded as it usually had been. The smooth modal notes from the grand piano engulfed the place like a streaming waterfall. He sighed. He would never get ill from the continual nirvana-like music. He could lack any other of his senses, but hearing would have to be the only sense he couldn't live without. Music kept him alive. Without music...he wouldn't be _the_ Yamato Ishida at all.

Stevie Wonder had to be one of his favourite artists that Yamato admired the most. Stevie Wonder was blind since birth, but still survived in his music by skillfully playing the harmonica, keyboard, piano as well as other instruments. One would find it hard to digest that the famous lead singer of the _Teen-Age Wolves_ had a soft spot for jazz. No one would ever believe that he cherished jazz like air he'd breathe.

'Sex, drugs & rock n roll!'

Yamato bitterly scoffed the thought. He most likely was classified into that category by many fans of his. He took a seat on a stool besides the bar, eyes still darting around the old scenery. He still stared at the pianist, absorbed in the music to notice his alias name being called out.

"_Matthew_?"

He ignored the call.

"Sir?" a person behind him tapped Yamato on the shoulder.

He turned around on his seat to face the bartender. She was dressed in a tight gray tank top. He didn't understand why the female was dressed that way - seeing that it was winter. In recognition, her eyes sparkled green under the dim lit tavern. "It _is_ you, Matthew!"

"Oh, sorry," he gave a small smile. He let his elbows droop onto the bar as he clasped his chin in his hands. For half a year, he still wasn't accustomed to being targeted with his pseudo identity name that he had evoked. "Where's Sora, Suzanne?"

"She's over there," Suzanne's gaze shifted behind him, eyes widening at the scene she was witnessing, " Oh my…"

Yamato glanced at the direction where the woman was staring. Due to wearing his black shaded glasses, he let them slip on the edge of his nose to get a better view of what was going on. Out of the scarce source of light he managed to catch sight of a middle-aged plump man towering over a shorter woman with unmistakable fiery hair.

"I'd better go and check it out. It's about time this place got some sensible security!" Suzanne said worriedly, wiping her hands on her apron even though Yamato could tell that they were dry. "That man is probably drunk."

"I'll check it out for you," Yamato sliding off his chair, waving his hands in the air for her to halt. Taking the paused silence as a yes, he also noted, " Besides, you can't leave the bar unattended."

"Thanks, Matthew."

"No problemo."

He gave a careless shrug, slumping through the fogs of cigarettes as he wandered towards where the drama had begun to accumulate. He pulled his dark lensed glasses higher up his nose, observing the situation with a stern frown dragging his features.

"Let go of her," he said briefly.

By the time that Yamato had arrived at his destination, the older person in front of him had already slithered his hands around the woman's waist. She fought him angrily until he finally let go. Her face disgruntled in displeasure staring daggers at the man.

Perhaps she could look after herself...

He brushed the thought away when he noticed that when she had haughtily folded her arms, her fingers had begun shaking. He wasn't deceived. He may be a fool and thick headed at times, but he knew for a fact that she was scared. The woman had put on a darn good job not showing that she was frightened, to the old man's satisfaction. She had her pride. She was a strong soul.

"You can have your feisty slut," the man glowered, cold grey eyes still leering over her lasciviously.

At that insult, the woman almost lashed out onto him. Yamato instantly had gripped onto her hand just before she was about to slap him.

"A feisty slut," the man repeated not wavered. "Missy, I don't think you'd want to harass your customer…you'd get fired, _dear_. Unless you'd want to bear me a child, I pardon you."

Yamato could feel her viciously quivering again. Instead of fear, he was sure it was replaced with complete wrathful fury.

"She's anything _but_ a slut," Yamato said, his voice monotone. He didn't know the woman completely, yet, but he knew that no one had a darn right to speak to anyone in such a sickly manner. "You're a drunken bastard."

"Ha," the man gave an insane smile. "I may be a drunk bastard, but I know a slut when I see one, young boy!"

Yamato grunted in defiance. From appearances, the man seemed only five years older than himself.

"You don't believe me, boy?"

"Why _should_ I?"

"Just take a look at what your missy's wearing!" he licked his lips. "From what I see, she looks like something fine indeed…"

Yamato doubled back, deciding to take a glance at the man's advice, unsure what had possessed him. He let go of her wrist. Yamato didn't have a complete view of the woman since his glass's lens limited his sight. Her curves could be seen clearly from the tight grey tank top she was wearing, the same he had earlier seen Suzanne clad in. Her eyes were light brown, her face radiant with innocence. Why someone had wanted the female bartenders to be attired in such a non-conservative uniform was beyond his imagination. Sometimes innocence was better left untouched...

Quite some time back, Yamato had mistaken the female for a younger girl. After more frequent visits later, he found out that she was much more than an innocent child holding a pretty smile. Hell, she was the same age as he.

Yamato's frowned deepened. He had just realized he had been gazing over her too long. Besides the man being a complete dunce, he did have a knowledgeable point. The girl/woman was gorgeous. What she was doing in a jazz bar, he didn't know.

"I prove my argument."

The man was most likely a lawyer, from how he was speaking…a dirty old lawyer. He shook his head as he locked gazes with her disapproving look he was sending him. Yes, he had been staring at her way too long.

"He's too young for you, missy. You need someone older and wiser," the man slid a card into her buttock pocket of her tight black pants. She slapped him away; he cracked one last smile as he dissolved away from the pair in the clouds of smoke.

Bebop jazz stirred up, overwhelming their silence.

She walked back to the bar; he trailed behind her and took the same seat he had sat in. He watched her serve the dozens of customers. Suzanne had left early, causing her workload to be double the amount for her. Time swept by, the customers decreased. Music still jammed on, and soon her shift had come to its climax. She French twisted her auburn hair into a loose bun, wandering towards his solitary figure.

"Why are you still here? Everyone's almost gone by now. It's 2am. This place shuts in half an hour."

"Enjoying the music," Yamato said half truthfully. The artist on the stage played the tricky notes to _My Funny Valentine_ as he accompanied the piano notes with his talented voice. "And yet...I'm wondering why your pianist isn't famous."

"Same here," the woman gave a dazzling smile, straight teeth glinting. "Alejandro plays magnificently."

She fiddled with empty glasses on the bar bench, disguising her uncertainty in what she was saying, "About earlier…I just wanted to thank you, Matthew…even though you didn't really do anything at all. But your attempts should be praised, I guess..."

He chuckled, "That's alright. I think I made him absolutely certain that you're a whore now, no offence or anything. He actually gave you his contact number."

"No offence taken," she said simply, taking the business card from her back pocket, face scrunched up in disgust. She tore it into pieces, chucking the rubbish into the nearest trashcan as she walked back beside him. "It happens all the time. Suzanne and I've been having a spat with our manager to change our uniform or get higher security. I still haven't adjusted to it."

"You shouldn't be adjusting to such obscenity in the first place," he contorted. "I don't understand why you're working in this dump anyway…"

"It's like why do you go to _this dump_ in the first place?" she said. "I like working here…that's all I can dish out to you right now, Matthew. You're still a stranger, you know? You randomly slip in here whenever you feel like it...Suzanne and I have bets if you'll come back or not."

"I'm unpredictable."

"I think that I already know that."

It was always like this – the same routine of ongoing arguments. Their personalities clashed, yet they carried some sort of absurd similarity and train of thoughts. She was the same person he had met – always voicing her opinion with the slightest bit or reluctance. Then again, Yamato was never had been interested in girls…since they were either wanting to bed him or crazing for an autograph, which was most probably why he liked to keep his distance. Though, Sora was an exception. She wasn't one of those girls that screamed his name or tormented him with tight embraces.

"You like working here?" he arched an eyebrow. "What…don't you plan to be something else? Don't you have dreams besides being a…being a bartender?"

"I'm happy with my current position, Matthew. You have no right to question my beliefs…I could ask you the same," she said slyly. "Like why you are always hiding when you come. You always wear those black sunglasses. Honey, let me tell you somethin'. There's no sun in a jazz café."

He retorted, "There's moonlight."

"Sure, but our windows don't harvest it considering this place doesn't have windows," she laughed. "Where'd you park your car, anyway?"

The woman was erratic as ever. But from as far as his friendly relationship with her, he never had seen her so straight forward.

"A couple blocks down – the Kyneton Parking Lot."

"That's great!"

Yamato gave a curious look,"And why is that?"

"My car's parked down there as well. You're my escort," she responded, in charge. "Cause I forgot my jacket…I think I need protection."

"Sure," Yamato agreed.

Soon enough the pianist finished playing, causing people to spill out from the bar. When everyone had left, she locked up and both Yamato and her were walking down the street.

Disobeying the soundlessness between them, she spoke up. "You know...whenever you come to the bar you always look all jaggered up and exhausted. You should get some rest...looks like you're going to drop dead any second. You're really pale -"

"I know," he chuckled. Though the woman could be mistaken for a younger girl, her sensibility was equivalent to his mother despite he rarely met up with her - less than Sora, in fact. "But...going to your bar...that's where I like to rest."

She nodded, accepting the answer and not pestering him on. He liked how she didn't prod him on for more answers like many other people he knew.

"So, this is it. Thanks," Sora smiled. Nudging her head to an old jiggered vehicle. Yamato guiltily looked at his shimmering blue SUV convertible.

"Do you have a heater in your car?"

"No," she laughed. Yamato could hear her teeth chattering. He handed her his jacket. "No, I can't take that…"

He didn't care. He could buy the same jacket anytime, after all. He pushed it towards her more.

"Sora, please."

Her warm eyes inspected him. With the few encounters they shared...he hardly called her by her name. He was well aware that using her name atypically would cause her to understand that he was serious. Yamato settled the jacket around her, watching her slide into the driver seat of the car.

"Thanks _Mr. Yamato Ishida._"

She shut the door, car jolting off. He stood there…frozen in position. The wind even seemed to be in transit, yet he stood there – feet stuck the ground.

Sora had known who he was all along…

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You like it so far? Hmm…I guess you can't really judge since this is only the first chapter.

**SPECIAL NOTE:** THANKS to everyone who voted in the poll about Yamato's career position. This story doesn't really 'fully' focus on it…but on something else I can't quite say. You'll understand when chapter three is up. Haha. ;D


	2. Chapter Two

Written: 16.o3.o6

**Argh. I've finally posted the second chapter! I guess I started doubting myself…about this chapter. And I admit…this is one of my few 'writer's block.' I don't know…I wasn't quite pleased with it…but then again, I'm never quite pleased with my work. As I get older on this site, I put more effort in each chapter I do. Perhaps I'm a perfectionist? I don't know. But I know - for sure - that this chapter isn't close to perfect. I HATE IT. Grr…Okay, I'll quit my ramblings and let you test this chapter out for yourselves…**

**Beachn**, **Night Beauty**, **theladyknight** (_thanks for signing the guestbook, dear! You're part of a jazz band? That's so cool! Haha. Yeah, I reckon jazz suits Yamato - though many people may not agree with me. But...the harmonica he plays in Digimon is a soulful instrument ;D so that's gotta mean something! You like how Sora's portrayed? Haha..that's good, I was intending to make her intriguing since this story is mainly from Yamato's view_), **Princess Kikyo Sora** (_finish it soon? haha darling, I've got a long way to go. lol...i JUST started! And i've got two other stories plus juggling school! I'll stop with the excuses ;D_), **hasu**, **nickygirl**, **Curtis Zidane Ziraa** (_nice to hear from you again!),_ **JyouraKoumi **( _sorry s-loc, no koumi here x.X . I'm really sorry. I REALLY want to write a Koumi for you since i owe you one. BUT I've been so busy lately. I might as well stop updating altogether…_), **Wishinstahhz** (_yes, they have met already - I wanted to jump straight to the point on what this story is obviously focused on - the character buildup between both Sora and Yamato. haha_) **& Sabishi Tomo** (_first reviewer! yeah, this chapter was confusing...but it'll all click into place ;D_)

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Two**

**Diligently, he shut **the door. Dark bags draped under his depleted crystal azure eyes of his pale drained face. He massaged his throat, under the impression that someone had slit it. His fingers were tingling in a numbing sensation from his perpetual strumming on his electric guitar. Thus was the life of a '_rockstar_.'

As he entered his apartment he couldn't help but feel cautious of his surrounding. He had always done a quick check whenever he entered the familiar realm. Perhaps it was because he lived alone. His stomach groused.

It would have been nice if he had someone prepare him a well cooked home made lunch. He had enough money to arrange for his own personal chef, but he wasn't fond of being too posh and living 'higher-up' than to the majority of the world population. He endeared simplicity. His apartment carried a ordinary aura with plain white walls and the typical male confining mess of a adolescent teenage boy. He entered the small bare kitchen (possibly the only neatest area in his home) and hunted about for what remaining groceries he had left in that week to prepare his meal. His stomach groaned again.

Now, at that particular time, he couldn't help but ponder whether he should have had a chef. The starvation was getting to him.

After taking a handfuls of fettuccine and dunking it into steaming water, he waited patiently for it to cook. Most of the other band members would eat take out, but Yamato was a guy that was concerned about his diet. Plus there was no such thing as a 'tubby' lead singer to a famous band. He only agreed to have take out once in a while. Ever since his parent's divorce, Yamato had learnt how to cook proper cuisines and that always spending money on _just _take-away food was not good. His father had always busy with his night shift work, leaving Yamato to fend for himself so he had grown accustomed to fending for himself. His friends always complimented and teased him, but he didn't know whether he cooked well or they were just famished and were in need of 'free' meals. No matter how wealthy his friend were, they were freeloading thieves.

He stirred the pasta hungrily. Sure, he _could_ cook…but he could never compete against his mother's lasagna. Darn, he was ravenous.

"Matt?" a voice piped over the boiling water. "Are you home? Mm, that smells good!"

He looked up from the saucepan, curiously. Only a few people knew about the secret keys he hid in the front porch of his apartment. There was his best friend – Taichi Kamiya (but he crossed that name out since he was on an overseas holiday with his girlfriend), his band members (they enjoyed finding peculiar ways of shaking him up awake in the morning because he was a heavy sleeper) and his brother – Takeru (nicknamed TK). No doubt about it. It was his brother.

A few seconds later his sibling casually walked into the kitchen. His dirty blond hair was covered with his uniform black beanie, which he wore everywhere (Yamato knew the only reason why he wore the beanie was because his younger brother despised brushing his hair). TK's wonted amiable grin spread across his face as he neared his older brother, giving him a punch on the arm.

"Good to see you too, TK," Yamato smirked, displaying his customary greeting of messing up his hair. It was an old habit that he would never fail to remember.

TK assisted him by making the sauce for the dish, and instead of one bowl of pasta – there were two. For that lunch, Yamato had brotherly company.

"Table for two. This feels like a date," TK commented, winking. "Where's the candlelight?"

"It's broad daylight, idiot," Yamato sneered. "And I don't comply to being incest."

"That's a pity," his brother responded jeeringly then started to squeal. "I've always dreamt of marrying Yamato Ishida, lead singer of the Teen-Age Wolves!"

"God TK. I think mum's turned you into a woman," Yamato chuckled. After the divorce, when Yamato was about eleven, both brothers had been separated to live with one parent each. Yamato lived with their father, while TK lived with their mother. "So why'd you come here, anyway?"

After swallowing down a forkful of pasta, he replied, "I was in town. Just wanted to visit you."

Yamato chortled. "You live in Odaiba too, dope."

TK shrugged, sticking his tongue like a little kid. "You know the reason why I came occasionally! Just checking up on my brother."

Every now and again TK would randomly visit Yamato just to see how he was going. Even more lately because, as mentioned earlier, his best friend was overseas.

One would have suspected that the divorce would have distanced them, but it was evident that it hadn't. It had made their sibling bond much stronger than it already had been.

"Stop checking up on me! I'm the older brother, I think it should be the other way around."

"If I stop checking on you, who will?" he questioned. "Anyway, you're always busy…so it's better if I check up on you."

Yamato shrugged as a response as he gingerly focused his attention back to his food, absorbed in thought.

Occupation wise, TK had a much easier laid back job. He was a novelist, professionalizing in writing long epic adventure stories. Yamato was certain he achieved the expertise from their mother, who was a writer for the _Odaiba Times_. Many people also saw his father in Yamato because his father used to be apart of a band as well.

Yamato had always wondered how TK could handle the patience of sitting on his butt all day and find it so appealing. He found writing lyric for songs a frustration, at times…but writing _actual_ stories. He was amazed how his brother could stand it. Then again, TK had always been a dreamer. Especially after the divorce, TK used writing as a therapy to avoid the reality while Yamato had engrossed himself with a musical career.

Unconsciously, Yamato stared at his already empty bowl. He began replenishing more pasta into his bowl and devouring his meal in a wolf like manner.

"Gee…you're not hungry," sarcasm dripped from TK's lips. "I'm not even half way on my first bowl!"

"I haven't eaten since breakfast!" Yamato growled. "I had band practise and I haven't gotten a bite since."

"That's exactly what I mean!"

Yamato stared at TK, uncertain what he was talking about this time.

"What I _mean_ is that you''re not taking care of yourself, which is why everyone checks up on you."

"Don't lecture me," Yamato mumbled. "I don't need anyone to check up on me. I don't need a damn nursemaid!"

"No, you need a girlfriend," TK said bluntly. "You need to socialize more, Matt. Not run away from every girl you see on the streets."

"Ahh…so there is a reason why you came over," Yamato laughed. He knew his brother well. "Spill it, _Teeks_."

"Grandma rang from France. She told me both her and Grandpa are coming in two weeks to Odaiba."

"That's early notice," he arched an eyebrow. "Oh well, good excuse to cancel some band practices. Family comes first."

"Going back to the _point_," TK emphasized the latter word pointing his fork at the older man.

"This sounds bad."

"Trust me, it's good."

"Then spill it!"

"I would if you stopped interrupting."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

The brothers acted as if they hadn't been separated at all from the divorce. TK coughed. "Well, Grandma was having the usual conversation with me – you know, the lecture?"

"Yeah," Yamato bit his lip. He loved his grandparents with all his heart…but he absolutely detested being lectured by them – especially about…

"Our love lives," TK gave a weak beam.

There was something about TK that Yamato couldn't quite put his finger on and as their little talk became a longer one the more and more he didn't feel quite appealed to the whole prattle.

"…you know how she is, she's always checking up on us more often ever since our parents split! She even noted that you haven't gotten any publicity in France about having a girlfriend and then she gave me the talk that our parents had been bad influences which was why she concluded that you were queer."

"_Gay_?" Yamato repeated, he was beginning to get a headache.

"Well…she's got the crux about you! Even though she's countries away, you've gotta admit that she knows us very well. She knows that you haven't really trusted anything to do with 'relationships' after the divorce. She knows your whole cynical pessimistic perspective about the whole 'love' matter and how you claim it doesn't exist!"

"Exactly," Yamato muttered. "But why'd she say I'm gay! Just because I don't date doesn't necessarily mean I'm gay! I am NOT gay!"

"Which is why you owe me."

"That doesn't make sense!"

"I covered up for you with a little white lie," TK said. "Grandma's now aware that you aren't a homosexual."

Yamato relaxed a bit on his chair, tension oozing out of his shoulders. "So what did you say?"

"I said that," TK paused. "I said that I'm engaged…and you're….you're married."

"**WHAT**?" he blurted out. "Are you a LUNATIC?"

"Come on, Matt! It isn't that bad!"

"It's easy for you to say," Yamato groaned. "Kari's been your steady girlfriend for three whole years! Go ring up Grandma and tell her the truth!"

"But she was so pleased!" the younger man frowned. "Stop being a party pooper! Just play along, Matt! Find a girl willing to play along and then you can break up with her. It'll be easy for you! You're a celebrity!"

"Some white lie," Yamato grumbled. "It's the complete opposite! It's a black lie, I tell you!"

"No…now that you put it that way," TK spoke pensively. "It's more close to a gray lie – something in between white and black."

"TK!" Yamato felt like leaning over the table and strangling his brother with his quivering fingers. He collapsed into his hands. "What should I do Mr.-I-Am-To-Blame."

"I suggest," TK retorted, "That you find a girl."

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**I was meant to introduce the band in this chapter, but I thought it was best that I shouldn't. I didn't want to bring too many characters into this chapter…considering I wanted TK to make some sort of effect and to slide in more background information on Yamato. You like, you hate? I seriously think I've finally lost it and that my train of thoughts has slipped just over the borderline of sanity. Please review ;D**

Note: not edited (forgive the typos for they shall be fixed when I have time to fix them)


	3. Chapter Three

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Written: o2.o5.o6

**Whoa! Thanks for all the positive feedback, you guys ;D **

**Wishinstahhz, The Bunny Queen **(_Hell yeah, I juggle…and I'm barely coping with it! Haha. Hope in me finishing soon? Argh, I've still got a LOT to do. LOL_), **JyouraKoumi, hasu, nickygirl** (_pick Sora? This chapter tells you it all ;D_), **Yume-dream** (More like a big GRAY lie? Haha…maybe I should change it to little GRAY lie…lol), **Isky & theladyknight** (_It's alright about the long review…look how long I took to update :S . Saxophone? Drool…I've been wanting to learn how to play that instrument though I never got the time. I'll probably learn it after high school, haha. Okay, I'll know where to turn to when it concerns to more jazz songs ;D I vaguely remember Yamato cooking – but burning the food when he found out that Jun was on the phone - …so I thought it would suit that chapter. Yamato would probably of learnt how to cook good if his dad was always out and also being there was no one there to cook for him. Oedipus the King? Another story to add to my lists. LOL. That is major ew. You thought of my story to one of Shakespeare's sonnets…aww…I feel loved . LOL. Thanks for the review darls_)

* * *

**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Three**

**A waver of** reluctance and vigilance engulfed him as he entered the jazz bar for the second time that week. _Two_ nights in a row…it surely had to be his most recent record. He never knew that he would be retracing his steps that he had done the night before. The same stench of foggy cigarettes occluded his nostrils, yet there was still a different spice in the air. Perhaps he was nervous? Yamato Ishida didn't know.

The allegro music notes sang from the pianoforte, but the instrumental jazz didn't calm him down as it usually did. Paranoia broke his sweat as he constantly glanced around the faintly lit bar. But he held his apathy persona playing, his intense azure eyes kept his masquerade up in hiding the fact that he was _actually_ nervous in the first place with addition to the dark sunglasses he was also clad in.

A flash of light sparked his direction causing his body to tense edgily. He closed his eyes, waiting next for the flood of paparazzi flashes to flood him in method. But it didn't come. He sighed in relief. Sora hadn't told anyone. Neither his 'personal' fan club nor the much-loathed media had found out where he was.

He located where the bright source of illumination had come from and cursed when he read the message on his cell phone.

'_You'd better be socializing and finding yourself that wife of yours! You don't have much time to be lounging around doin' nothing. Cheers and Good Luck, Teeks'_

"Takeru," Yamato grumbled his name, growling as he threw the phone into his jeans pocket. Rarely Yamato had lost his cool. But only Takeru (nicknamed Teeks or TK), and Takeru alone could get to him. And he hated it.

The whole reason behind the text message was an absurd concept, schemed and plotted by TK, that Yamato had only been notified that day. His own brother was a good for nothing selfish traitor. His own flesh and blood had turned against him to join forces with another person who also carried the same flesh and blood – TK and his _grandparents._

To cut things short, TK had told their grandparents that _he_ – Yamato Ishida – was married. It was ridiculous! Yamato rarely had time to himself to be juggling his career and personal life…but now he had to deal with finding a woman?

He should of stuck to the impersonator idea…

His fingers ran through his blond hair, chin holding onto the cordless phone as he patted his foot against the wooden floor impatiently. His brother sat at the end of his bed, staring at him and shaking his head disapprovingly.

"You don't even have to ring that hotline up! You're a real chicken, you know? Even though you get all this publicity and visible to the _world_, you're a hermit in real life."

"TK…"

"I mean…any girl would go for you! You've got it all!" TK said, leaning back on his bed as he stared at the ceiling. "Oh Yamato…you're so damn hot, I want you, I need you -"

Yamato hushed his brother as he listened into the phone, "You have reached _yellowpages _please select a word for us to search -"

"Actors," Yamato abruptly said.

"_Connecting_…"

"You can't be serious!" TK groaned. "I thought you were kidding about actually getting yourself impersonators."

After thinking through the problem earnestly, Yamato had come up with a spectacular (or so he thought, but not according to TK) plan. The idea was to pay for two 'impersonators:' one that looked like him, and the other who could be a random woman. The plot was to make the two impersonators break up in front of a huge crowd and cause the media to send the message to France, hopefully causing his grandparents from coming to Japan. After a lot of thinking, he was almost sure the idea would work…_almost_

"Hello Josephine, I was wondering if I could hire some actors to impersonate…"

By the time the descriptions and total amount was all discussed about, TK still had a scowl on his face. The older blond headed man slipped his hand behind the back pocket of his jeans, unable to locate his wallet.

"Ey TK, could you fetch my wallet? It's either in my jeans pocket or on the dressing table," Yamato called out to his sibling then spoke into the phone. "Sorry Josephine, it won't take a minute. My brother's getting my credit card."

Yamato's eyes bored onto his brother thoroughly search for his wallet in the two main places he'd usually have it, but TK shrugged. "I don't know where it is! I'm serious!"

Giving a slight sigh, Yamato began searching his room as well. For a man, his room was quite neat. To be a 'rock star,' he had to be organized. From going on tours all over the world to waking up four am in the morning. Being famous wasn't all glorious. He was still a human being that had a lack of sleep and had the ability to lose things. And at the current situation, he had no idea where his wallet was.

He heard his voice being questioned on the other line of the phone. He shook his head in irritation. "Josephine, could you please hold and save those details. I've misplaced my wallet, I'll call you back when I find it…then we can finalize the payments. Thanks."

He hung up the phone, eyes fixed on his brother.

"I swear, man! I didn't hide it this time! I may have been a bad brother with telling grandma about your false love life….but I _swear_, I would never mess with your belongings," TK spluttered, waving his hands in the air. "I think I've already learnt my lesson when I accidentally spilt coke on your guitar. You noogied me bad!"

"Fine, fine…I believe you. Just stop pleading and begging, it doesn't suit your sinister nature."

"Gee, I feel really better now," TK spoke sarcastically. His face turned serious, "That's not good if you lost your wallet…"

"Tell me about it," Matt sighed, scratching his head. "I had almost everything in there."

"When did you have it last?"

"Not sure…I haven't seen it around all day," he replied, searching through his room. He had made it past his closet and now was looking at the stashes of music CDs neatly piled on top of each other.

He groaned. He'd never find his wallet at this rate. If he had lost it in the street someone would of used all the money and using his credit card. This wasn't good…

Frowning, he still stared at the CDs. All of them were organized by genre. He had almost every genre from heavy metal to slow classical love songs. And Jazz…how could he forget that? He chuckled, taking one of the CDs from the rack and observing the cover.

"You're laughing. How can you be laughing when you've just lost your wallet? Are you insane?"

Matt shrugged, placing the CD into the stereo system flooding his room with the bebop music.

"How can you listen to that trash?"

"Why can't you shut up and observe art for once?" Matt muttered, even though he knew that his sly mock was not true. TK was more artistic in writing, whereas he was more artistic in music.

Maybe that was the reason why TK stayed with their mother while Matt stayed with his father after the divorce. Their mother was a writer for a local newspaper while their father had been a former member of a rock band when he was younger. Matt had to admit, without his father's connections he would of gotten anywhere with his music career. But was it worth it? Matt really didn't know…

The CD transited to the next track. Matt recalled hearing it the night before, at the Jazz Bar. It was a great piano piece that Alejandro was playing, as Sora had told him. Come to think about it…he had given Sora his favourite jacket…he needed to remember to buy another one. _Given her his jacket… _It was then that it all clicked where he had last remembered his wallet tot be in.

"Sora's got it! I left my wallet in the jacket I let her wear!" Yamato exclaimed excitedly over the music. "All we've gotta do now, TK…is go back to that jazz Bar, obtain the wallet from her and _then_ hire actors with the help of my credit card!"

TK blinked, a smirk sliding onto his features. "Who's Sora? Who's this girl you gave your jacket to?"

"This woman…who works at the Jazz Bar," he stared at his brother, not liking the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh…so I see. So you've been going to the Jazz Bar to check her out…this whole time? You dawg!"

"I…wasn't. I really like the music…"

"Sure," the younger man gave him a knowing look. "And you claim to speak to no girls…yet you make this _woman_ an exception. Who is she really, Matt? Who is she to you?"

"TK…there's nothing going on!"

"That's good then!"

"Excuse me?"

"Instead of hassling about getting actors…why don't you just ask that woman? She can't deny you…you're _the_ Yamato Ishida."

"Enough treating me like some crazed obsessed fan girl. That's what put me off the whole dating scene."

TK shook his head, "Stop changing the subject. You're going tonight. You're going to ask her to be your pretend to be your wife and give her five thousand dollars for doing a favour for you!"

"Five thousand dollars!"

"You can hack it," TK shrugged. "You get million times that amount, stop being stingy."

"I guess," his mind wandered.

"Great! Then that's settled! You'd better be in charge. Go to that Jazz Bar and make the deal. If the five thousand doesn't work, just supply her with the Ishida smile."

"I didn't say that I would agree -"

"I've gotta meet up with Kari now," he patted Matt on the back and headed out the bedroom door. Matt gave a frustrated groan. _How in the world was he going to pull this off?_

_That's right…how was he going to pull it off? _

He sat on the stool, elbows resting on the bench where he let his head clamped onto his hands. The last time he had tried to pick up a girl was back in high school. After that, the dates he had went on were more of the females that asked him out. Other than that the women interested with him were chasing after his money, popularity or looks. Not him, not who _he_ was. Yamato suddenly could sense a rose scent merging with the thick air of cigarette smoke.

"You're back again, Ishida."

Her cool soothing words sleeked over the instrumental music. The music was no competition against her sweet soft voice. But he wasn't going to be easily deceived. He may have bumped into her numerous times he had come to the bar, but it did not mean that he knew her in and out. But the same couldn't be said about him. She knew who he was…

"I am. I'm just surprised there isn't any media or paparazzi about."

She deftly accumulated his brown battered wallet onto the bench, "What do you think of me?"

"I really don't know," he said, taking his wallet, not bothering to check if everything was in there. He already knew the answer that she hadn't taken anything. The money and credit cards would have been gone if the media publicity was there, and in that case there was no sign of any sort of media as well as the squealing girls. Thank God.

"If I wanted attention in showing off to the world that Yamato Ishida comes to this bar, I would of done it earlier."

"How long have you known?"

"From the first time you walked in," she laughed, brown eyes showing a flicker of amusement. "Those shades that you wear don't do you any good…you're still pretty recognizable."

"Then why hasn't anyone else picked up on my appearance?" he asked.

"Because some of the people don't really mind. Some people may not want you to flood the place with people who are ignorant and don't care for the music here. Some people may have -"

"I get the point. But I still don't understand how you were able to recognize me…"

She rolled her eyes, pacing to the other side of the bench and serving another man. She walked back to him, "My friend was obsessed with you. She had posters plastered on her walls of your band."

"Oh," he said. That answered it. Even if it did sound arrogant that he accepted it, it was reality. He shuddered at the fact that many people would have pictures of him in their bedrooms. Even though he had been the rich and famous for quite some time now, he still hadn't adjusted to the lifestyle.

"Water?" she questioned, holding out a jug.

"Asahi please."

"Beer this time...you've always ordered a water or a soda whenever you come," her sharp gaze was suspicious.

"Just give me something strong," he muttered. Hell, he really needed something strong to ease his anxiety. Asking this woman out was going to be difficult. He had witnessed many men offering a date numerous times, and she rejected them all.

Would he also become another of her _rejectees_?

In seconds, a full glass was in front of him. He swigged a few gulps down, letting the alcohol ease him.

"And I thought you were a polite non-alcoholic," she laughed. "You really are like any other man, rude and ill mannered. A thank you would have been good, seems you've forgotten how to say thanks…you usually do."

It was always like this. Whenever they spoke, it was like they wanted to outdo each other. They always suspected what the other would say, only to be surprised with the answer he or she would give.

"Thanks," he replied apologetically. He gazed at her, "There are many things you don't know."

"Right now," she said truthfully, "all I see is a glossy magazine cover rock star in my café…and him actually interested in the jazz music is quite intriguing."

"All I see is a bartender who seems happy with what she's doing," he said quietly. Even though he should of hurried things and asked the women to be his impersonator already, he was still dabbling on. "And why is that? Why is she happy being a bartender?"

"Yamato, I am happy with what I'm doing," she replied. "I actually love what I'm doing. Working here isn't only a job to me…it's a – no _my _passion. What more could I ask for? The music is incredible."

"So you're actually happy here? You don't regret anything…?"

"You can't hold onto regrets for too long," her gaze appeared distant. "I'm living in the moment, and I'm content where I am. How about you, Mr. Rockstar? Are you happy with what you're doing? Why does a rock star like you even come to jazz café in the first place?"

He felt slightly uneasy with all her interrogations, but thought she had the right to know. He didn't know why he could spill out this thoughts to her, especially when he hardly knew her. Perhaps it was because he could never discuss things like this to other band members, his best friend or even his family. Sometimes it felt comfortable to talking to a stranger.

"Financially wise, I am happy. But in my world, it's a tough business being constantly in touch with the media and being on the roll through morning to evening. I was thrilled when my band became famous. I was young; I didn't know what I wanted or what I really was getting myself into. Now that I'm older, I actually don't really enjoy the music that I play…I can't seem to connect with the lyrics. The songs I sing now lack meaning and originality…"

"That's true. I never really liked the Teen-age Wolves in the first place," she said bluntly. But he was glad that she was true. He was sick of always being praised for something he knew wasn't that good, again she had caught him off guard. Her sincere honesty was refreshing. "Sure, you could play the instruments well, and your voice is really good…but you and your band seemed to always lack the heart."

"Lack the heart?"

"Yes, lack the heart and soul in what you were singing. What you performed were just words…but not the words' _interpretation_," she said. "You could be singing a whole lot of crap without knowing what the hell the word meant. But singing and putting yourself in a person…makes the music more beautiful."

"That's why I love jazz," Yamato laughed, taking another sip from his glass. "I don't understand why you have such expertise in music."

"Working here for four years has taught me," she shrugged, a small smile appearing on her face. "And I'm not a fool to see that there's something you want to do or say…there has to be a sudden reason why you were in the need of some vodka."

With subtracting a few bits here and there, it took about five minutes to quickly outline his situation to her. He rambled on about his grandmother's obsession with her grandchildren's love life to how TK and he had thought of an idea to getting impersonators, which turned out to be a failure because Sora had had his wallet.

And now, he was going to drop the bomb.

In timing, a customer ordered drinks. So she watched him intently as she began to brew drinks. "So what have I got with it, Yamato?"

He neglected the question by giving her information first, "I'll pay you five thousand dollars, if you would follow it through for two weeks."

An eyebrow raised when he spoke about the money, "Are you bribing me?"

"In a way, I guess…so what do you say?"

"I need to know what you want me to do," she said, asking, "So what is it?"

"Be my wife." For the first time, he watched the glass of liquor slip from her grasp, shattering into varying pieces on the counter. She didn't seem to care about the mess she had caused.

She choked out, "_Your wife_?"

"You really need to clean up that glass…you'll get hurt," he said, trying to find the best way to get out of the pickle. He didn't want to face the rejection, and he knew it. Nevertheless, he had never seen her react in such a way. This was the first time he had witnessed her actually dropping glasses. He was used to watching her skillfully handling the glasses.

"Your wife?" she repeated. Her lips quirked upwards as she grabbed a broom from behind the counter, sweeping the glass that had fallen onto the floor.

"So," Yamato sighed. "Would you consider it? Unless you're a bad actress…plus, it's understandable if you don't want -"

"I'm in. It's easy."

"What?" he gaped at her, shocked. "Why?"

"Yamato…I guess…I wouldn't of accepted being your _wife_ earlier, but now that I've talked to you a bit more, you seem like a nice guy – not an arrogant jerk"

"That's because there's money involved in it."

"I'm not a gold digger," she said as she continued to sweep the broken shards of glass. "How can you say that when you don't even know me?"

"How can you believe pulling this off is a synch?" he queried back. "And you don't know me either."

"You're a rock star…living the best life…off course I know you."

Yamato frowned. Somehow, he wanted to pull off the deal altogether. He thought she was different. He didn't think she was one of the women who thought his lifestyle was enchanting.

"Is that your only reason why you want to do this…just have a blast?" he asked, quietly. Then again, if Sora wanted it to be that way…maybe it would be fine. It was better not to have a close connection to her and expect anything. Maybe spending time with her as a friend would be entertaining.

"I have other reasons, Yamato," she responded. Her brown eyes twinkled as she stared at him, "Maybe I'll tell you one day."

"Maybe," he shrugged. The woman was bemusing him more and more. Before he could slip in more words to her, she informed him that her customer was still waiting. He'd have to wait…

* * *

**Again, unhappy with this chapter. I had to rewrite this chapter again because computer didn't save it…so it's lacking detail here and there. It's really annoying…because I had it all set! I would of made this chapter better quality if I had more time, but I felt guilty in not updating…plus I don't think I'd have excess time after this considering mid year exams are coming up. The ending is sort of rushed (if you can't tell)…I'm really annoyed. ( I think the stress of everything is getting to me)**

**What I'm sort of 'okay' about is that I tried a new structure in this chapter. I put the order of events as present, past, present. (Matt entering bar, Matt's talk with TK, Matt's talk with Sora). I guess it was fun going back and forth. ;D OKAY, need to sleep now. THANKS for being patient with me and keeping up with this story ;D LOTS OF LOVE**

Note: not edited (forgive the typos for they shall be fixed when I have **time** to fix them)


	4. Chapter Four

**(a/n) This chapter has been REWRITTEN** _(o7.11.o6)_

Starting from now, all reviews will be acknowledged through Private Messaging. If you don't have a fanfiction account, I'll reply to you in the following chapter.

**- X -**

**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Four**

"**_I turn around_**…"

His smooth drawling voice sung the final words, accompanied with strumming the final chord on his guitar. The ending notes were overwhelmed with the erupting cheers from the crowd. A false smile sunk on his facial features, directed towards all the fans that had attended the concert. The Teen-Age Wolves bowed, exiting from the stage.

As soon as the lead singer disappeared from the audience's sight, he swigged down a few good gulps. In competition to the crowd's liveliness, his internal state still hadn't settled down. His heart was beating so fast that he felt it would throb out of his chest in any second that it was making him nauseous. His legs felt like jelly and he was short of breath. Yamato had always thought he'd get used to performing in front of thousands of people, but he was wrong. He found that after almost every concert he played, he still suffered from the reverberations of the loud music and shouting people. He used to love it.

He bent down and fastened his electric guitar carefully into its case. His fingers quivered as he buckled the case. When he had tiredly strapped the guitar over his shoulder, the Teen-Age Wolves' drummer strode beside him disgruntled.

"What the _hell_ was that?" he growled.

"What?" Yamato's blue eyes matched him equally in blunt defence, "What, Yutaka?"

"Ishida, you played the wrong damn key!" he said angrily, voice shaking in rage.

"It was only once," Yamato almost replied at once.

"It was _more_ than once. You're the solution to our uprising and downfall," the drummer stood up and jabbed the blond on his chest, "Don't _fuckin_' screw up! Don't fricken' blow this up for _us_."

"Yeah, no pressure," the blond grumbled sarcastically in response.

"I'm serious, man."

This time, he chose not to answer. He was never the person to get into unnecessary fights, especially when it wasn't worth the time. He usually preferred to keep his emotions to himself, even though both Takeru and Taichi had told him numerous times that it wasn't good. Perhaps he had gained his stubbornness from being under his father's wing for so many years. Not being raised by his mother had taught him to defend for himself. And he had lived by that ever since…

But in some sense Yutaka had been right. Yamato wasn't going to deny that he went off key…and how he stuffed up 'more than once' that night. But it was a _darn_ concert…it didn't matter. Plus, it wasn't his fault the lyrics weren't good enough and that his band members had lost the true meaning of music. Hell…these days he felt like he was just playing for them – not for _himself_. The other band members were all way too consumed with their newfound riches and fame of the materialistic world to understand him now. They had forgotten the _reason_ and what it meant to be playing in front of fans, what it meant what they were singing…what they _used_ to love to do.

Performing thoughtless lyrics in routine - over and over again - made Yamato abhor their music rather than praising and enjoying it like his fans. His heart wasn't in it anymore. Though, the band members didn't seem to care. This really ticked him off. To him, they were only his band mates.

They just weren't his friends…_anymore. _

All the glamour and popularity had gotten to their heads.

He took a glimpse at the band's keyboarder. Over the years his glasses had been replaced with emerald sparking contact lenses and he was slowly turning into skin and bones.

As usual, he didn't speak up. He hardly spoke up these days. Perhaps that was the reason why he had turned to drugs, he had always been the quiet member. It was dismal that Akira was throwing all his talent away…it was sad that Yamato didn't know who the guy had turned into. Yutaka, Takahashi and he had all known that Akira had been taking drugs…but neither had the courage to tell on him or to get him off it because they knew that Akira was already in too deep to become clean (and not that he would even listen in the first place).

"Yamato, don't take him seriously," Takahashi, the bassist of the band, uttered quietly. Yutaka grunted, folding his arms in disagreement.

"That's just like you, Takahashi, always sticking up for him. Stop being his god damn mother!"

"As I said before," Takahashi ignored Yutaka's sly comment, " Don't take Yutaka seriously…because he was off key _too."_

"I was not fricken' off key, moron. Stop siding with him!" he blurted out angrily.

"I'm not," the redheaded bassist grumbled. "But, yes, Yutaka does have a point."

Yutaka eyed Yamato in triumph. The blond shook his head and gazed back at Takahashi. In some sense, his friends hadn't completely disappeared. Takahashi was probably the sanest out of all them and Yamato was willing to listen to what he had to say.

"And what is it?"

"You're always preoccupied. You've always got something on your mind. Have you lost interest in _this_…Yamato?" Yamato stared at him silently. He had always thought it was the other way around…or was it _he_?

"I…I-I don't know."

"Well, you should."

"Give him time," Akira's croaky voice intervened. The trio stared at him, bemused. The jet-black haired boy hardly spoke up…but when he did, there was some sort of meaning behind it.

"Hell no!" Yutaka barked. "He doesn't need time to think it through. If he wants to continue this shit, let's continue. If he doesn't…we split up! It's that fuckin' simple. Unless Akira takes over and becomes the lead singer -"

"Be quiet, Yutaka!" Takahashi ordered, yet his face remained calm and unflappable. Though a hint of irritation was shown through his eyes at Yutaka's satirical attitude towards Akira. Takahashi turned his attention back to the lead singer, "You really need to tell us soon, Yamato."

"I will," his eyes studied the ground with false interest.

"Oh…_shut-up_!" the drummer said bitterly. He shoved his drumsticks into his pocket, heading to the backstage room. As he was about to leave he spun around, " Yeah, he's preoccupied _alright_. Some slut is waiting for you, Yamato."

He stared at the auburn haired woman and gave a wavering smile.

**- X -**

He let her slide into the limousine first. As soon as she had boarded on, he climbed in and shut the door behind him. Yamato finally gave into his body's exhaustion, collapsing onto the comfy leather seat, unconsciously burrowing his face into his hands. His fingers ran through his sweaty locks of hair as he closed his eyes.

"Stressed?"

"It's normal, but you could say that," he heaved, not bothering to offer another pseudo smile. He closed his eyes tightly, then opened them feeling somewhat refreshed.

"Being stressed all the time? That's leaning towards abnormal," she replied matter-of-factly. She shuffled into a more comfortable position with her legs crossing over each other, yet her posture still remained perfect.

"What are you…my personal shrink?"

Her lips quirked up, "Well, I did take Psych back in high school…"

"That explains it."

She didn't reply and kept silent. He watched her cinnamon eyes dance around the leather interior of the vehicle, then stare at the blurring scenery from behind the dark tinted windows. He liked that she lightly treaded on the surface of his problems. She wasn't like those interviewers who wanted the deep gossip and complications of his life.

"I'm sorry I missed your concert," she spoke up, interrupting his thoughts.

He gave her a wry smile, "You just walked into the after party."

Her eyebrows arched in concern, knowing that he was referring to the disagreement with the other band members. "Your band's really falling apart, aren't you worried?"

"To them…it's me. I'm the problem. They, _apparently_, aren't."

"Well…you _are_ their leader. You are the lead singer after all," she commented. Somehow, whenever she spoke…everything made sense. Even with his best friend, he found it quite difficult to talk about these things. Then again, sometimes he found it challenging to listen to Taichi.

_Pull yourself together, Yamato…_

Instead, he glanced at her attire. Her café uniform was replaced with a casual pair of dark jeans and a silk cream blouse. What she wore wasn't exactly feminine, yet it still made her look attractive. She was simple. But he knew there was something more to her. There was always something else…like why she had agreed to playing as his wife… What did she _really_ want?

"Matt!" a voice interrupted his thoughts once again.

His head tilted to the front of the limousine, noticing that the glass screen had rolled down. He observed the back of the driver's head, which was coloured a messy dark blue.

Yamato exchanged glances with the driver; staring at him through the rear view mirror of the vehicle.

"Hey Jyou," he cracked a smile.

After firing quite a few drivers that were obsessed with his band, Yamato settled with Jyou – someone who did not crave gossip and had no interest in the music business whatsoever.

Jyou was a loyal, reliable trustful worker and friend who drove him around part-time after every gig he would perform. Yamato didn't mind that he worked part-time instead of full-time because the lead singer could pretty much handle driving his own car. He just couldn't afford driving his car after concerts because he had a bad hunch that people would memorize his number plate and stalk him. Plus, it also worked perfectly for Jyou's schedule. Jyou was a full-time university student and worked for Yamato so that he could pay off his education expenses.

Yamato enjoyed his company. Even though he usually drove slowly because he was scared of car accidents. Even though he always made sure to not accidentally swerve into another lane. Even though he always wanted to be, beforehand, three blocks away in the correct lane when turning a corner. The only time Jyou had gotten angry was when Yamato overpaid him intentionally. But Jyou had gotten used to the idea considering every time Jyou protested against Yamato overpaying him, he'd add an extra hundred.

"How are you, Matt?"

"Tired."

"That's nothing new. Who's your new friend?"

"I'm Sora," she laughed, joining the conversation. "Nice to meet you, Jyou."

"Nice to meet you too," in front, the driver gave a polite nod. "Ah, she's a nice friendly one. You'd better keep this one, Matt."

The trio laughed.

"Where to?"

"Around. Just drive wherever. At seven, drop us off at the main shopping centre because she's got work soon. We've got about half an hour."

"Sure thing," Jyou replied. Seconds later the separating glass window rolled back up, giving the pair privacy.

Her eyebrow raised, face rather quizzical as she studied him from her scrutinizing gaze. "How did you know?"

"I'm a stalker," he taunted. "Nuh, I just guessed. You usually begin working at that café at seven."

It was true. Or perhaps even though his infrequent visits he had acquired knowledge of when her shifts were on – which was almost every night. He wondered whether she got any sleep. Sure, Tokyo was a busy city…but even a city's got to have some sort of rest. She had to have some sort of rest.

After Sora had agreed to take a part in the '_Project Wife'_ assignment they had interchanged schedules and, astonishingly, her weekly timetable was just as busy as his. Hell, this meeting (or whatever it was considering it only lasted for half an hour) was the only time they were both could slot of free time in their very tight schedules. Yamato was quite curious to why she was unusually busy during the day, but didn't prod her. 'What _did_ a bartender do during broad daylight?' he contemplated.

"And how would I know that you _aren't_ a stalker?"

He had forgotten that her intense eyes were still studying him. He chuckled. "Dearest, people usually stalk me. I don't stalk people…that would hurt my ego."

"Ha," she tittered in derision. "Dearest, I think you'd need more than a hammer to crush yours."

He shrugged, "Maybe."

So she was still stuck in the façade as everyone else. She still considered him as one of those idiot rock stars that craved attention. He didn't blame her. He just wished that somewhere along the line, her perspective would change.

They didn't talk much in the limited minutes they had together. It's not like they could get into a worthy conversation since they knew the arm would soon strike seven. Whether they were conversing or not, with her presence he could not help but feel collected and relaxed. Whatever had happened after the concert had dissolved into the back of his head. Maybe it wasn't jazz music that made him at peace. Perhaps it was she?

Who was he kidding?

Maybe it's just that he found Sora comfortable to be around. How she wasn't fake like many other people he dated or knew. She didn't demand anything from him and didn't want anything either (eliminating the fact that she was probably in this whole ordeal for money). She just calmly spoke her mind and didn't suck up to him. Like that night when she had straightforwardly told him that she disliked his band. Something simple. It had been a while since had spoken to someone 'real.'

God. He sounded like some chummy boy in preschool that was experiencing his first crush. It was just like him to see all the pros in someone or something, discarding all the cons. He could hear Taichi muttering a, 'it's because you haven't gotten laid lately.' He shook his head. Even though Taichi was probably bathing in some pristine beach overseas, his best friend's lunacy still haunted him.

In other words, he was letting his guard down. No, he wasn't going to let it happen again. Whenever he did let his guard down, bad thing occurred. It was just like when he was younger…living an innocent lie…until, off course, the divorce.

It was patently one of the reasons why his relationships always turned into a catastrophe – a clear reason why he never bothered with relationships, these days, anyway. He didn't believe in commitment, especially when it came to 'love.' The only sort of commitment he abode by was his commitment with his band – and now, even that, was falling apart. Not that he hadn't tried at all when it came to relationships. Trust me, he had. Only to find out that his ex-girlfriend had only been after his popularity and money. A gold digger. It reminded him of that song by Kanye West, not that he liked hip-hop in the first place.

In other words, even though Sora seemed the perfect applicant for this exploit, he knew plan '_Project Wife_' would backfire somehow.

Damn it, he thought too much. The limousine came to a sudden halt. His azure eyes dropped down to his gleaming golden wristwatch. "It's seven." He placed on his black shaded opaque glassed and tossed a navy beanie over his blond hair.

"Yeah," Sora nodded, putting the bag's straps over her shoulder . "Thanks for, umm…our half an hour of somethin'."

"Our half an hour of somethin'," he repeated in concurrence with her, holding out his hand that she later on shook.

They both knew that instead of progression, their outing was more like a regression. But somehow, it seemed that the both of them didn't seem to mind it at all.

He rose up from the vehicle first, opening the door for her. When she stepped out, the pair began to walk on the footpath through the throngs of people.

"Come on," he said. He took her hand, pulling her through the crowded street. He smiled. "I haven't told you yet…but thanks for doing this."

"No problemo."

She flashed a toothy grin back as she jogged after his larger strides, her neat auburn hair becoming quite deranged against the wind. From a bystander, it would be quite strange seeing two adults holding hands and running like no tomorrow. To Yamato, it felt like he was eight-years-old again…doing whatever he wanted to do with not a care in the world. No band. No stress. Just being random and having a strange tingling sensation of fun. In the spare minutes before Sora's shift would begin, he planned to make it up to her for their rather tedious 'meeting' - Even though if it included making them run like morons. He felt rather guilty that his stress with his band had made their meeting really dull.

They turned a corner into the familiar empty silent alleyway.

"Sorry if tonight went crap for you."

"Don't apologize…it was pretty interesting. Peculiar…but interesting," she remarked. "I'd better get going now. I know that Suzanne's dying for a break. Plus, I need to change into my uniform. Bye-"

"That reminds me…who's taking you home? I could arrange Jyou to-"

"I'm fine, Yamato. You should get some rest."

"So should you," he responded. "Are you sure? Cause we dropped you here…and your car-"

"Yamato, really. Antonio's is giving me a lift home. Don't worry about it. I made sure to catch transport to your concert and I've made arrangements with Antonio to give me a lift home. Don't be stupid. You can't make Jyou wake up at 2am to pick me up."

"Okay," he replied, now reassured. But couldn't help but teasingly ask, "Are you sure?"

"I'm _fine_!" she said, rolling her eye, knowing that he was now playing with her. "Stop stalking me!"

"Hey, Ms. Sora! I think I do have a right to stalk to you since I'm your husband and you, dearest, are my wife," he winked.

"Real smooth," she sneered. "I really need to go, Yamato. Are you coming in or what?"

"Think I'm going to pass tonight."

She turned around, about to leave. He placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

"Oh, and one last thing."

"_What_?" she now sounded exasperated. "At this rate I'll get fired!"

He was meant to do this earlier, but he chose not to. It would have been weird if he had, especially considering Jyou was in the limousine as well…not that it wasn't weird already. He didn't even know why he had put so much thought over nothing when it was a phony proposal in the first place-

She coughed.

He let his hand dig into his pocket, retrieving a small crimson plastic oval-shaped object. It was one of those hollow oval-shaped objects that kids would get from machines and find a secret treasure inside.

"Here," he said, laying it onto her palm. "I got it before the concert. It cost a fortune."

"Sure," she smirked. Curiously unscrewing the object open. The prize fell onto the ground.

"Klutz."

"Shut-up," she hit him lightly, and bent down to fetch her treasure. When she found it, she burst into laughter, tears sparkling in her eyes. It was his first time to see her laugh so openly, like this. She appeared like a whole new different person. Someone really –

"Are you serious?!" she exclaimed.

"Well…you are my wife."

He diligently took the (obviously) bendable sterling silver ring from her, placing it on the correct finger. Her cherry red lips curled upwards.

"You're cute."

For once, he didn't object her. Not that he thought that he was cute. He just wanted to accept her first compliment to him with gratification. For the short time he had known her she had never given him any sort of praise. He was used to the 'you're hot' from shrieking fans. 'You're cute,' would probably be the closest compliment Sora had given him.

He exposed his one hand, displaying his ring as well. "Well, we needed a wedding ring since we're married."

"True," she said tersely. She gave on of her nods and a light kiss on his cheek.

"What was that for?" he queried as he watched her back head closer towards the café. He knew it was only a kiss, he just was searching for what comeback she was going to display next. She held a hand up, not looking behind for him to see her face.

"Well…you_ are_ my husband."

He watched her figure become smaller and disappear into the café. He chuckled, exhuming his cold hands into his pockets, staring up at the barely visible sky.

**- X -**

**a/n** You know what? (You're probably going to hate me) But, again, I dislike this chapter. Sigh. I'm most likely going to leave it…I'm just really not like the interaction with Sora & Yamato. I'm scared and anxious that this story is going to turn into a walking disaster and that I might disappoint you guys.

I hate admitting this, but I'm having difficulties with all my stories at the moment. I've got everything planned out…etc. It's just I'm finding it really weird after 3 months of not updating…so I haven't quite adjusted to this routine with having 'all the time in the world' at the moment. Even though I have now graduated from school and completed my final exams (which I still can't believe), I've been pretty busy. I need to organize a party, assist in helping the Art Exhibition at school and find a job. So much for a holiday. Sigh.

Even though I may have not done much updating the previous months, I've come up with so many new stories, ideas and plans that it's stressing me out!

**ALSO**, I didn't do a double update because I might take long to write the next chapter…and I've left you all hanging long enough. But, considering I promised you guys, I'm going to update another chapter to this story first before I proceed back to Paparazzi and LimitZ.

Okay, that's enough of my blabbing for now. I hope I didn't ruin this story.

**Next Chapter:** Be prepared for two more Digidestined characters to be incorporated into this mess! Haha


	5. Chapter Five

Written: 11.11.o6

**(a/n) The PREVIOUS chapter has been REWRITTEN on the o7.11.o6. So if you haven't read the newer version, please read back then proceed in reading this chapter to avoid confusion.**

Again, another thanks to all the people who have read (and even reviewed twice) the previous chapter and have coped with my major infrequent updates. Hope you like this one…

**NOTE: This chapter has not been edited yet, so please avoid idiotic careless mistakes. Thank-you!**

**- X -**

**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Five **

**To a certain** extent, he felt quite refreshed that Thursday afternoon. The Teen-Age Wolves' manager had thankfully let the whole crew take that day off. For a week they had been extremely busy with recording for their new uprising album. All the days seemed connected since Yamato had tiredly venture actively in and out of the studio for that past week.

It was time to take a breather, and this time he really needed it and certainly earned it. Especially when the atmosphere in the studio was still heavy from the aftermath of his argument with Yutaka. For Yamato, being with such a hotheaded man with a week was very strenuous. Takahashi – the peacemaker – tried his best to get Yutaka to talk and at least compromise with the lead singer again, but there wasn't any sign of success. Both Yutaka and Yamato had been too stubborn, in their own ways, to let their little disagreement go by that easily.

Yamato thought of it as pride; Yutaka thought of it as stupidity.

Meanwhile, it wasn't helpful that Akira remained his stoned self as usual. The band had almost run out of excuses to deliver the manager with Akira's actions. It wasn't that Akira's performance was terrible (if they asked him to play Beethoven, he could easily whiz through it on his keyboard. Whether he be stoned or not, Akira's talent surpassed the believable with his skill and godly perfection). The remaining members had always pleased about Akira's performance – they were all just afraid of sanity and how long Akira could withstand everything.

With so much going on with the band he hadn't even put aside any time to meet up with Sora. It was nerve-racking when he also had to take into account that his grandparents would fly from France to Japan anytime soon (next week, in fact). Not that he was scared of his grandfather – more his _grandmother_…which, particularly, was another terrifying story.

He was meant to have discussed to his manager if he could take a short holiday for two weeks during his grandparents' stay – he hadn't been able to mention it yet because he was rather cautious that the manager would crack it. Either way, he'd have to fish out of the studio someway or another. The Teen-Age Wolves' manager knew that even though the popularity and commercialism may have gotten into his head – Yamato still valued his family first. From secondhand experience behind his parents' divorce he knew to never let his career interfere with his personal life, exceptionally when it came to his family and close friends. He'd have to worry about telling the news to his manager later…right now he was going to spend his few solitary hours to himself peacefully and treat himself with something good.

Later on that day he had made arrangements and plants to meet up with his best friend, whom had _finally_ returned from his overseas trip with his girlfriend a couple of days ago. Lucky bastard. He was dying for a holiday like that. Despite going on tours overseas, he had never really had a 'holiday.'

Yamato felt a bit culpable for downright lying to Sora that he was also going to busy on that particular day – but then again she had told him that she would also be busy that day as well. After all, they were going to meet up again that Saturday afternoon. So it didn't really matter. Besides, catching up with his best friend was presently on the top of his priorities that moment.

He scoffed to himself. Off course he'd catch up with Taichi…right _after_ he did something for himself.

The street that he had been walking was typically crowded, but he luckily could effortlessly thread himself along. It was most likely the advantage of having his electric guitar strapped over his shoulder. With a grateful sigh, he glanced up at the store, glad he had reached his destination. Luckily, the store wasn't as crowded as it was on the Tokyo streets outside.

As soon as he had walked in he neared the compartment filled with new guitar covers. He silently picked up a black new leather case and put it over his vacant shoulder. While chocolate was the source of happiness and ecstasy for women, he knew that purchasing anything related to music was his own source of contentment. Hell, he was glad that he'd finally get the opportunity to dunk his old battered guitar case in the trash.

His eyes dashed about the store, curious if he required anything else. It then came to him how the manager had told his band that they were in need of a new name considering they had out-grown their teenage years. Thus, Teen-Age Wolves, didn't suit their appearance at all. He pivoted on his feet towards the rock collections of CDs. He found an Elvis album, and took one of the copies while thinking of his mother who was an avid fan for the King of Rock n' Roll. He scanned through the random names in that specific section.

_Taking Back Sunday…Sex Pistols…KISS…Lenny Kravitz…Franz Ferdinand…Jet…Fall Out Boy…Dashboard Confessional…Jack's Mannequin…_

The names were all unique, yet he couldn't help but feel intrigued to why someone could name their band 'Jack's Mannequin.' He shrugged, and took a copy of the album. Whatever…he'd try and find a new band name later. He knew that it was more better that his band 'work as a group' in selecting a new band name, not him just choosing one for all of them.

Feeling fulfilled, he proceeded towards the service desk and carefully placed the leather guitar case and the two CDs onto the counter. The salesperson scanned the items into her computer. Her dark auburn hair (much darker than Sora's) was gelled up in her usual spikes, giving her style and flare – just like her bright personality.

"Afternoon, Matt," she greeted her usual customer.

"Hey," he replied tersely with a grin. "How are you, Jun?"

"Fine. Yourself, Matt?"

"Well, thanks."

He didn't worry about getting caught by any paparazzi or fans that day because he had his customary disguise on (a beanie and shades). Jun knew his real identity, but wasn't foolish enough to say his real name out loud in public. Bearing in mind, back in high school Jun Motomiya was his first fan. Even though it sounded corny and cheesy, perhaps without her effort in making a own fan club or screaming her lungs out when she saw him in Odaiba High's corridors', he wouldn't have made it big time with his band. For that, he owed her. But in their period of time back in high school, he didn't want to acknowledge her at all…but to run away…really _far_ away.

Now, it was different. They were good friends. He was glad that her infatuation and fixation over him and his band had shriveled away. Nowadays they pretty much shared suitable rivalries when it came to having debates concerning music. He wondered that he could of chose Jun, instead of Sora, to take part in his 'Project Wife.' Then he remembered that Jun had a steady boyfriend and that it would just be all to weird to be pretend-dating his former number one fan.

Plus, he had a hunch that he still would of chosen Sora regardless if Jun was available or taken. He was just all too suspicious in finding out who Sora really was and that she had been the first option that had popped into mind, taking note that Takeru had forced him to do chose her anyway.

Coming back to his senses, he watched Jun put the CDs into a plastic bag. He handed her his card.

"Credit?"

"Yes."

As soon as she was about to swipe the plastic credit card through, he stopped her.

"Wait!"

Her eyebrow arched.

"You wouldn't have another CD rack I could buy?"

"Hold up," she laughed, going to the storeroom behind the counter.

Seconds later she came out of the room holding a wooden CD rack, identical to the many more racks he had at home. Jun didn't need to be told which type of CD he was after considering he was constantly buying a new one almost each month.

"Can't believe you already ran out of space for your CDs. You're crazy," she commented, shaking her head as she scanned the rack into the computer also. "You've clearly got a huge collection of music by now."

"Trust me…it's still growing."

Yamato had always preferred buying the actual albums from stores rather than downloading them from the Internet. He just liked the feeling of having a solid copy of every artist he admired. Though, he knew, that if he didn't earn much money he would of probably downloaded them. Sometimes, being rich and famous was advantageous.

When Jun had finished serving him, he took his purchased items, thanked her then departed out of the music store.

**- X -**

He was already there. His brown messy hair fought against the spirited lively breeze. His back was facing him, body stance preparing to kick the ball into the soccer net. It was so predictable about him. The place where they were going to convene was predictable. What he was doing was predictable.

But what wasn't predictable was that his best friend, _for once_, wasn't tardy and arrived at their high school's soccer field earlier than he did. Now that surely was a shock to the system.

Yamato didn't need him to turn around to not know that it was Taichi Kamiya. He closed his eyes, ready for the brunette to give the final blow. In seconds, he heard the sound of the soccer-ball become powerfully foisted into the net. Even that was predictable. Taichi _always_ got a goal.

"And Odaiba High wins! 2 to 0!" Yamato whooped, jogging onto the lush green soccer field towards his friend.

His friend spun on the ball of his feet and caught a glimpse of him. His hazel eyes sparkled with familiarity and joy with his lips breaking into his traditional goofy beam.

"Well, well, well…if it isn't my Rockstar," he batted his eyelashes and pressed his hands together. "Oh, how I've missed you."

From the gray suit he was attired in, Yamato guessed that he was at working beforehand. It was really strange watching a grown man playing soccer while being clad in something formally professional.

He had expected Taichi to go pro, but against all odds he became a businessman, surprising the hell out of everyone that was very _un_-Taichi like. But when everyone had found out that he was behind the business of CNN sports, it was understandable.

Yamato energetically kicked the soccer ball towards the net, not t bothering to aim. And, off course, the ball flew onto the side of the net, rebounding and rolling back to where he was standing.

"You may have perfected the art of music, but you're still awful at soccer as ever."

The inexperienced player picked up the soccer ball from the ground and threw it at him, narrowly missing his nest of a head. Taichi still had good reflexes.

"Hasn't anyone told you that you don't throw a soccer-ball? You're supposed to kick it, Matt!" Taichi patronized, concealing a snicker.

"Not when I play," he responded automatically.

Taichi kicked the ball along; shifting it equally between his two feet as the pair exited the soccer field. Like planned, they were going to catch up over a worthy amount of food at a nearby noodle restaurant. Mimi was going to join them later.

When they reached the parking lot, Taichi put the ball into his car and they both hopped into Yamato's convertible. Once the engine had started, music exploded out of the speakers. Immediately, the man disguised his blond hair with a dark blue beanie switched of the volume.

Throughout the ride, Taichi filled Yamato in with his holiday. Mimi. The beaches. Mimi. The luggage. Mimi. The souvenirs. Mimi. That is, until he directed his attention back to the lead singer.

"Nuh, man…I've seriously missed you," Taichi chuckled. "What have you been up to lately? How are you?"

"Dreadful."

"Not the band, I meant you."

He gave a deep sigh, gazing at Taichi. "Fine-"

"That bad, huh?"

The brunette's smile turned into a frown. He was his best friend; he couldn't lie to him when Taichi could read him like a book. He was one of the few people that could do so. Regardless with or without his guard up, Taichi could see what he was feeling so unambiguously that it was embarrassing.

"I don't know why you have to continue with this if your heart's not into it anymore. This is what I've been concerned with ever since you went all godly on us."

"I breathe on music, Tai."

"I know that. But you certainly are choking on what you're playing now. This is not your style and type of music…especially when someone composes the songs for you. You should just quit the band altogether, save you the hassle of worrying over those bitches."

Yamato glared at him. Taichi said calmly, "Just telling you the truth how I see it, man."

The musician breathed deeply, fingers tightening around the steering wheel, "I know, Tai."

Deciding to change the subject, he questioned. "So…what's up with your suit?"

"Ah…well…I would of caught up with you earlier…since we only came back two days ago, but you were busy. So I practically begged my boss to let me leave work early today."

"Thanks."

"Just for you," Taichi laughed. "I knew you were busy, don't worry about it. I'm just glad we're still talking and that you haven't forgotten about us. It's been almost two months since I haven't seen you. You've gone paler."

"While you've gone darker," Yamato remarked, referring to his friend's new tan. Then he remembered he really needed to tell Taichi about '_Project Wife_.'

By that time, they had already surfaced at the noodle restaurant. After securing that his vehicle was locked, the pair slowly made their way into the restaurant.

They took a seat, told the waiter what they wanted and observed him leave.

"Why didn't we get a female waitress?" Taichi groaned. "That waiter was boring!"

"Sometimes, I wonder how Mimi can bother having a long-term relationship with you," Yamato teased, loosening up a bit.

He felt quite happy with how their catch up was going…he had missed his friend's company a lot, even though he hated to divulge it.

"And there's still something you're not telling me…spill it. At least tell me before Mimi comes!"

"Fine, fine!" Yamato gave up, waving his hands in the air.

It took only minutes to uncover the story (because Yamato made his friend to swear to not interfere him when he was explaining).

"…which is why I'm pretending to date her."

Taichi stared at him, mouth gaping, "That's beyond insane. But I've met your grandmother before…and I guess I know why you went all frantic over this to produce such a ridiculous idea."

"Tell me about it!"

"To who?" Taichi questioned. "Do I know her? _Who_ is she?"

In timing the chimes of the restaurant's door shimmered as two females walked in, heading towards their table. Taichi's back straightened when he heard his girlfriend's bubbly voice replace their silent atmosphere.

"I don't understand! I can't believe you're married…and you didn't tell me? What on earth are you -"

"Really, Mimi. I am _not_ married!"

"Then explain that ring!"

"I would explain to you if you would stop talki-"

Yamato stared at the other woman besides Mimi, alarmed. The woman looked at him as well, completely bemused.

"_No way_…" Taichi's eyes widened in disbelief when he recognized them both exchanging looks of familiarity.

_So much for the bartender being busy that day_…

**- X -**

**As promised, I updated this story first before updating both Paparazzi & LimitZ II. **

**It was really tiring to write because there was so much description I had to include in the first part of this chapter. Sorry for not including Sora in this chapter. But from the little cliffhanger, it's obvious that she'll be included in the next chapter…so do not fear. **

**I'm glad that Taichi has finally made an appearance in this story. Well…I hoped you like this chapter. Cheers. (& take care!)**

**Heart flipstahhz**


	6. Chapter Six

Written 24.o3.o7

T H A N K S . F O R . R E A D I N G: **Income Taxes Hate Cheese, Sarina Blade, BrownEyesAngel, My Name Is R.C, P0g0Stick, chinkeye, Mrs.Ishida-to-you, BoarderKC, scorpion05, Waltz Turner, JyouraKoumi, blue9989, Rheebus, Curtis Zidane Ziraa, Inconnu, nickygirl, pain herself, Night Beauty, SkuAg, Karush, crest of music & (lucky last) Wishinstahhz.**

**Don't have to read this a/n**

I've noticed a pattern with my current in-progress stories. LimitZ II has mainly the same people reading it who have read LimitZ (the prequel). Paparazzi is a easy write, but gains readers from everywhere. Whereas this story…it's basically the same people who read it from the beginning…and continue to (hopefully) do so. Haha. Nuh…out of all stories, I think I'm liking the progression (not as in update style) of how this fanfic is going. Maybe it's because I love crying out my opinions of music in this story…who knows.

**- X -**

**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Six**

**The women were** already seated, sitting across both Taichi and himself. No one had really made a sound yet, besides stiff greetings while Mimi was left oblivious of the sudden awkward tense silence.

The blond haired man stared at her as she played with her auburn strands. It was some sort of mannerism he had picked from her lately. He distractedly let his finger circle the tip of his glass. He kept an inward groan when he saw that his own sterling silver ring glint against the sparkling red wine as a constant reminder.

Taichi gave a forceful unconfined cough. He could feel his best friend eyeing both his strange interaction with Sora and was waiting impatiently for their explanation.

Giving up and sick of being the only one left out of the blue, Mimi impatiently blurted out still holding some sort of poise, "Okay… what the _hell_ is going on?"

Right after Mimi had broken the silence, Taichi exploded another, "_No way,_" slamming his right hand against the table causing it to shake unsteadily.

While Sora ignored Taichi's eruption, immersing herself from playing with her auburn strands to seemingly wanting to yank them out. Meanwhile Yamato, in unison, had buried his head into his hands. Yamato hadn't expected to expose Taichi and Mimi to his 'wife' this way. From Sora's yanking reaction, it was evident that she wanted him to explain since it was he that had put them in the troublesome situation in the first place.

So much for the wedding vow '_I promise to listen to you and support you at all times_.' So what if they skipped the wedding, she could at least assist him out with delivering the _blessed_ news to Mimi. Plus, he had already bedridden Tai with the news from the look at his best friend's dumbfounded look. The dating couple were obviously close friends with Sora as well. He yet had to understand how coincidental the world could really be and, at that moment, he could not help but loathe it.

"Oh," Mimi took in Sora's quietness and smiled. "Is it because you realized that his wearing a disguise and that we are friends with Matt?"

Sora blinked, confused then seemed to suddenly click everything together. "Uhh…so this is _the_ Matt – Taichi's best friend – that you've been talking about all along. Why couldn't you just say that he was Yamato Ishi-?"

Mimi clasped her hand over her friend's mouth. "Don't tell the whole world! Why do you reckon he's wearing a beanie?"

"Well…you just did 'tell the world' that he was wearing a disguise."'

"Hey guys, are you ready to take your order?" a brunette young man came up to the table of four, a pen placed behind his ear as he held a small sketchpad. "Double-date today, I see."

"Shut-up, Daisuke," Taichi sneered. After the four selected their orders, Mimi pipped up.

"Nice restaurant you've got here, Dai. Well done."

"Thanks," he smiled.

"Just saw your sister working today," Yamato said.

Daisuke turned his direction to him, "She's always working. How's TK? I haven't seen him in ages!"

"He's fine. Just suffering a major writer's block."

"We do more labour than he does…and he gets quadruple the amount as me," Daisuke groaned.

"Don't worry…once more franchises of your business is open around Japan…or _even_ the world…you'll be filthy rich."

Daisuke rolled his eyes, "Thanks for the advice, Tai."

After giving a departing salute, Daisuke vanished away to give orders to the cooks and to take an order from the next customer.

The brunette headed man, sitting down, had proceeded into banging his head on the table. "_Matt,"_ he stressed Yamato's alias name, "Just tell Mimi already."

"Sora's helping too," he contorted back, feeling like a five-year-old. No, he wasn't going to let her go by that easily. If he was going to fall…she'd better fall alongside with him.

"How do you know each other? I haven't even introduced the two of you?" Mimi gasped, surprised. "You _know_ each other?"

Taichi was still banging his head, but even more forcefully.

"Stop it, Taichi. You're making it worse than it already is. Fine, I'll tell her," Sora grumbled, a scowl sliding onto her face. "Mimi…toilets…_now._"

He watched Sora stand up from her chair and drag away the protesting women away from them. Yamato shook his head and simpered to himself until Taichi gave another of his unconfined coughs. He shut his eyes…waiting for his friend to barf the word out anytime…

"Explain."

"I met her at a jazz place. She was there, I asked, she accepted."

"Sora doesn't accept things like this _that_ easily," Taichi didn't let him get off that comfortably.

"Well she did," Yamato paused, feeling his friends' gaze penetrate through his lie. He huffed. So he had to tell the truth. "Okay…fine. I've been seeing her a lot-"

"You're seeing each other? Matt my man, and I thought I was your bestie!"

"Not literally seeing…just seeing her at the jazz bar. It's just a good bar to seek privacy and hide out…considering it's now known well enough in Odaiba, it's an easy hide-out for me," he clarified.

"Oh…so now I see," Taichi replied, leaning back onto his chair. "I didn't know you knew other girls besides Jun, my sister, your mother, Mimi, your cousin – Cat, and your short-time exes. You've always been terrified or relationships…"

"I'm not terrified…" he objected. "It's just…"

"Jun would have been good. Why didn't you choose her?"

"She's got a boyfriend, Tai. Plus…I don't want her to over think it. Did you see how scary looking her boyfriend is, Tai? He'd castrate me without a second thought if he knew what we were doing," Yamato muttered away. "Enough me speaking…tell me how you know Sora."

"Sora?" he laughed. "Don't you remember? She's the girl I used to have a crush on back in high-school."

"How come you never mentioned her name then?"

"Nuh…I didn't because she went to an all-girls' school and you wouldn't know her name. She's the girl that I told you after I came back from soccer camp."

"So that's her? I didn't know you kept in contact still…"

"Haha…without her…I wouldn't have met Mimi. We remained good friends. Don't worry, Matt – she's all yours. It was just puppy love for me."

"I told you…this is just a project to fool my grandma. That's it."

"Whatever. Just…well…don't hurt her. She's like another sister of mine – don't hurt her feelings, man."

"If something was happening, sure I wouldn't. But as I told you before, no one's falling in love with each other."

"It's not going to be easy, you know. Your grandmother isn't stupid. Both of you need to know facts and quirks about each other. Family history, school history…the whole works. A fake relationship can't just pop out of nowhere…it needs skill! And you must always to remember your lies!"

"Yes, teacher Kamiya," he scoffed.

"I'm serious, Matt."

Just as the musician was about to nod his head, a loud shout echoed out of the walls from the other side of the noodle restaurant.

"MATT'S YOUR HUSBAND-?!"

"Keep it down, Mimi," another voice hissed.

"I surmise she took it more well than I did," Taichi chuckled.

**- X -**

It had taken them about two hours in the restaurant, until Daisuke gained the courage to kick his friends out for staying there too long and hogging a table when all they had been doing was chattering away. Once they had left Daisuke's noodle palace, they had begun wandering aimlessly throughout the streets of Odaiba.

Taichi and Mimi were walking hand-in-hand in front of the supposedly married couple. Though Taichi Kamiya had always been Yamato's best-friend, ever since he had started dating Mimi, he had less time to hang out with him. It's not that he thought Mimi was a bad girlfriend (in fact, he found her to be the best girl that Tai had ever dated)…it's just that majority of the time she was always there. It was uncomfortable being the third wheel when the two partners were all '_lovey-dovey_.' At least, this time, he wasn't only the third wheel.

He stole a glance at the woman striding next to him. At that moment she was wearing a fashionable sundress that sparkled light autumn shades that matched the colour of her long tresses. She caught him staring and offered a taut unsure smile. She shattered the silence, "I'm sorry that I lied to you."

"Pardon?"

"You know…about lying that I was going to be busy today," she pressed on, lips pursing. "It's just…Mimi's back. We went out…shopping. A catch-up, you know? I really had no choice-"

"Don't worry, I'm not cut. I was having a catch-up with Tai as well."

"You see," she persisted, wanting to give her whole reason to why she was busy that day, "It's because Mimi's my best-friend."

"Same here…No. Well…with Tai…that's what I mean. Really, Sora, I don't mind. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely certain."

"Good," she let out a sigh of relief. "I didn't know if you'd get angry at me or something."

"It takes a lot for me to get angry…it's usually when someone does something to my family or friends. But when I'm angry…I let it all out."

"Sounds scary."

"I get scared of myself," he shrugged. "Just advisable, in the future, to tread away with me when I get mad."

"Okay," Sora said. Out of nowhere, she began to chortle, gazing at him in mirth. "So…it's you. You are _the_ Matt. All along…they've been talking about you…but I never _knew_ that it was you. Yamato Ishida. Who would've guessed?"

"While I thought Tai and Mimi were talking about some other girl called Sarah."

They stared at each other and began to start laughing. "You know, I've been wanting to meet you for a long time. It's just I've always been at gigs to meet you in person. And now that we've met…it's under completely different circumstance. All this time…Taichi was trying to set me up with you too…"

"Same here."

"_Ahh_...the irony of coincidence," Yamato said satirically. His eyes roamed back to the couple walking in front of them. "With them two busy, it looks like it's going to end being you and me now."

"Must be fate," she winked, laughing. The wind breezed past and he observed her clipping her hair back with a large black clip. He did feel himself around her, but that wouldn't be enough. Taichi was right. The two of them needed to keep their act together to persuade his grandmother that they were married. They needed more than just the holding hands and hanging around each other. They _needed_ to know more.

He needed to know more about his 'so-called' woman he had devoted his life for. The thought of marriage made him queasy. Sora certainly needed to know more about his family besides his music career.

"Sora, we need to…well…know more about each other."

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What I mean to say…is that we need to put more effort into this pseudo couple thing we're pulling off. It's already the end of one week. In one more week, my rigorous grandmother will be coming. She'd at least expect you to know some parts of my past…and possibly concerning my family history too."

"So what do you propose?"

He brooded for a bit, eyes darting around for any ideas whatsoever. Unmindful, he noticed Mimi kissing Taichi on the cheek as Taichi took a photo of them from his phone. That's when it all made sense; he knew what he was going to do.

"I say that giving you history lesson all-about-me will bore you senseless. Plus, it's not I can quite exactly capture every memory. But photos can…"

"So…?"

"_So_…I'll drop by a photo album that has photos from different periods of my life…and I give you permission to ask what the photo is about."

"Sounds like a good idea," she commented. "So…how about me? Do I have to prepare you a photo album as well?"

"Well…it's really up to you. I wouldn't mind looking at yours…I was just waiting for what you really want to do. Our contract was to act like a married couple, not invade your privacy."

"I don't mind. I'm willing to expose my past. It wouldn't be fair if only you tell me everything. There's no point of our relationship to be one-sided," she joked. "Your grandma will probably find it strange that I know everything about you, while you don't know anything about me. Don't you think?"

"You're right," Yamato admitted. "You know what? Considering I have time to do it tonight, I'll put it all together. Then I will give it to Jyou asap and put it at your doorstep. I'll give you Jyou's cell number so that, whenever you have the time to finish, he'll pick it up from your house and deliver it to me."

"Even though you're well-known, Matthew. You've got to be considerate. Your driver goes to medical school…and you know how difficult taking a course there is?"

"I'll pay him extra."

She glared at him.

"Fine…maybe mail it," he gave in. He looked away from her and realized that Mimi and Tai had already abandoned them without even saying a good-bye. "They've gone."

"And so they have," Sora frowned. "They're planning something, aren't they?"

"It's Tai and Mimi…they've always got something up their sleeves. I think I might as well go home now. I need to reorganize my CDs as well as fix that photo album for you."

"Sure. See you, Matthew."

He swiveled on his heel, about to walk the opposite direction until he heard her call his name once again.

"Are you free this Saturday night?"

He closed his eyes. He had band practice for that whole day. Those tiresome rehearsals ended up lasting till late at night. He gritted his teeth, "Depends."

"Alejandro's going to be performing…we need lead singer."

"What makes you think I can sing jazz?"

"What makes you think that the heavy rock completely drowns your voice? This time we'll be able to assess whether your voice is good," she smirked. "Or not."

He laughed. "Are you challenging me?"

She coughed.

"What song?"

"I'll ask him…then I'll message it to you over our phones."

"What's with this all of a sudden? Alejandro can play well without me."

"A few people from the big music industry are going to check out his talent on that night and I'm trying to land him a record deal."

"How about him…does he want to?"

"I'm not sure. But really…who doesn't want a record deal? This guy has got amazing talent…and it's a waste that he's going to hide out in the dark. He needs to get out of this small place and make it big. He's well enough capable."

"I know…I've seen what he can do. Maybe that's the reason I always come to your bar," Yamato pondered. "He's really good."

"So what do you say?"

"If you send me your photo album, it's a deal," he compromised.

"See you on Saturday night. Don't get a sore throat."

He laughed again, "Glad to know you care for my welfare."

**- X -**

**I know…crappy ass chapter and not worth it being the 7-month wait. I'm just hating the second part of this chap. The interaction between Yamato and Sora was…bleh..dull. I think I might rewrite this chapter. I promise, though, that the next chapter will be well worth it. It's just starting to sizzle…and this chapter had to be added. Just think of it as a filler before it gets into the nitty gritty stuff. Expect better things in the next chapter! Thanks for reading!**

**Flipstahhz** ps. The next chapter will be much longer


	7. Chapter Seven

Written 1o.o4.o7

**I CHANGED Yamato's jazz performance from Friday to Saturday in the previous chapter!**

**THANKS TO!! **_Waltz Turner, blue9989, chinkyeye, BoarderKC, pain herself, scorpion05, Karush, JyouraKoumi, nickygirl & Yamora Love n Friendship_

**Again, thanks for ALL your support. I'm really happy that people still read this story. HAHA. Thanks a BUNCH! I hope you enjoy this chapter!! Haha**

**- X -**

**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Seven**

"**So the idea** is to construct a album with all of your different flavours. It's more of a fan-based CD…and I am more than definite that it well sell like crazy," insisted their manager, Kanji. "You get to have and compose your own track, but you have to bear to mind, that Yamato will still be singing to it."

Including Yamato, the four of the band members were seated circled around Kanji all battling to stay awake that early Friday morning. From the corner of his eye he could see the ever-so-arrogant, Yutaka, let out an enormous yawn that he didn't care to hide. For someone who was mad and intent for him to stay focused, Yutaka sure was a liar. As per usual, Takahashi was paying non-blinking attention to their manager and Akira was lost in some sort of a daze.

Takahashi rubbed his hands gather, in excitement, "So we get to compose it all on our own?" Yamato was sure that the bassist already had a bunch solos piled up already, waiting for his special moment to shine.

"That's what I said," Kanji nodded. "I'm giving you till the end of the day to come up with your own music so that we'll later hear it out as a group. Agree-?"

"Hold up!" Yutaka barked, suddenly awake. "You want us to compose by the end of the day? That's fuckin' impossible. We need more-"

"Which is the reason why I got you up early so that you'd have the whole day to get something done. Does everyone agree with me?"

Yutaka snapped, "Fuck no."

Kanji rolled his eyes and looked at Yamato for his opinion. He simply shrugged. "I'll try my best to."

"Same here," Takahashi added while Akira agreed as well. They had all woken up at four am just to come to the studio…that Yamato had no choice but to sleep early. The meeting in the morning was obviously important and he was quite excited to take on board construct his _own_ music for the band.

"Well…this meeting has ended. See you tonight and good luck," Kanji bided them goodbye.

Yamato certainly didn't want to waste this opportunity. In his heart, he knew that he'd waited for this for such a long time to do his 'own thing' while writing lyrics that actually made sense – not just fan girls jumping, but people who would acknowledge their music for what it actually was.

He bent down and began carefully placing his guitar back into its case. He thought that everyone else had left, by now. So after he had slung the case's strap over his shoulder he marched out to leave, only to have a faint voice call after him. "You're not using the studio as well?"

The blond headed artist turned around to see the keyboardist planted on his chair, staring at the ceiling in raptness. It had been a while since he had last heard Akira speak up. Yamato pointed out of the window, "I think I'll compose in my own studio at home. I'm going to go outside for a bit too, to attain fresh new ideas…new inspirations. I'll come back here, in the evening, when Kanji calls me. I'm guessing you're staying?"

"Yeah…nobody's here anyway," Akira replied. He stood up from his stool and strode towards where he was standing. The keyboardist then took Yamato's left vacant hand and crushed a folded crumbled piece of paper into his hands. Procedurally, he then dropped a small tape into one of Yamato's leather jacket pockets. "See if this works. The lyrics are there too."

With that being said and done, Akira turned to walk away back to his instrument of keys.

"Thanks, Akir-" Yamato stopped thanking him when he realized that his friend had already put on his headphones and was already entranced playing, allowing his fingers to run up and down the keyboard.

Shrugging to no other but himself, Yamato left the building and later found himself in his own apartment. It was a good thing that he was calculative enough to purchase his apartment near his band's studio, unlike Takahashi who lived almost an hour away from it. He poured himself some black tea and led himself into his music room. In the middle of it shone his white grand piano. Even though he was not as good at Akira when it came to playing such keys, he was no amateur at it. With piano, his talents only laid at playing moderate to easy sheets of music.

Other than his piano, he had an extra electric guitar and Takahashi's bass guitar that he left over at his home whenever he wanted to practice in Tokyo. He also had a set of DJing deck equipment from his mother for his eighteenth birthday. It made him laugh of how little his mother knew about what he did as the leader of the band. He couldn't believe how clueless she was and actually thought he was a DJ. But the decks were still good fun to play with…and he knew that using them that day would also come across as helpful to the composing he would do. But the instrument that attracted him the most was his harmonica. It was an actually a present given to him from his grandfather…and was the beautiful thing that triggered him to fall in love with music altogether. Though, it saddened him to stare at it in its glass case considering it was rendered unusable since his high school years when Taichi had been dribbling his soccer ball inside their dorm and then…_good-bye._

He winced at the memory. He had stopped speaking to his best friend for three weeks until Taichi finally thrust up the white flag, literally going on his knees and begging his forgiveness. Sure, it was hilarious…but he would always feel quite annoyed whenever he looked at his broken harmonica.

He sat on his piano stool, stretching his arms in preparation. He stared at the keys, not knowing what to do. His manager _had_ said that they were able to compose whatever they wished. Now that he was given the possibility to do so…he wasn't sure if the other band members would agree with it. He let out a frustrated sigh. Two hours had already gone by, and he hadn't even written anything. He never used to get this frustrated because the music usually came to him. Perhaps it was because he didn't try as much when he was younger…and now, when he wanted to make a change, it was darn difficult. He finally understood his brother's whinging whenever he'd get the 'author's block disease.'

His phone suddenly disturbed his thoughts when it vibrated with a new message. Yamato fiddled it out of his pocket, reading '_Youd beter be practising…'_

Yamato blinked when he scrolled down to see that it wasn't from Kanji or any of the other of his band mates. He then wanted the urge to inwardly hurt himself. Another message from Sora came in seconds later '_Oh, I 4got to tel u. The song youll be singin 2 is Summer Wind by Frank Sinatra.'_

Summer Wind?

He was okay with that song. Without thinking too much into it, he had accepted to sing for Alejandro because he knew that he owed her a favour considering that she was doing an enormous favour for him. He just was curious with what key he would be singing to. Hell, he shouldn't even be thinking about practising for Alejandro's event tomorrow evening…he could practise that during daytime anyway. Above all, he had to compose at least _something_ since it would be due that night.

After trying to conjure something up, he gave in. Since he had received Sora's two messages, he couldn't help but think all about the song he would be singing at the bar. He couldn't help but think about which note he'd have to sing on and the speed and style Alejandro would be playing the song on the piano. Just accompanying Alejandro's singing truly was worth something…

Darn it.

He needed fresh air. Once he had left his home, he found himself facing the buzzing streets of Tokyo. The place was always busy. Perhaps it would lend a supporting hand to get him to forget the thoughts of tomorrow night to focus on the music that he really _had_ to compose. It was already nearly noon and he had unconsciously sauntered himself off to a nearby park. Nature was always something that prompted him to gain some sort of creativity. Children chased each other around the playground; the sky was painted with different splashes of coloured kites. He strolled down a path all alone, looking around for any sort of inspiration that would capture his eye. And it eventually did…

"Higher, Uriyama!" a voice cried in a shaky high-pitched tone. "Higher!"

Amongst all the little kids, he noticed an elderly couple at a set of swings. An old man was diligently swung a small woman, her grey strands of hair whipping over her face as she let out an outrageous laugh. Yamato smiled. Old love really was fantastic. Other than the thought of being tormented by his grandparents about his love life, he adored knowing that they were a _lovey-dovey_ couple at such an age. It was a great achievement in comparison with his own parents who had divorced when he was a teenager. He then wondered if he'd be alone at that age...he shuddered. Somehow, the thought of being alone scared him. He was fine being his own solitary person currently…but when he was older…would anyone be there for him? The thought made him quite insecure. But somehow…he found it more welcoming than being a hostile divorce. Was being alone what he really wanted?

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sunlight tingling onto his skin. His thoughts then drifted onto the breeze and inevitably back to the song 'Summer Wind.' His stomach turned. It was normal that he would get nervous whenever it was a day before a performance…but this time, it was _different_

He was going to be singing live at a low cover bar to an absolute different genre. Yet somehow…he wasn't as nervous. Perhaps because he already knew that he would be having some sort of delight performing to the music he was fond of. In other words, there was no way he would stop judging the outcome of tomorrow night. Giving in to his muse, he decided to check in at the bar to find Alejandro. There was no point singing for him when he didn't know which note he'd be singing in. He wondered if it was open during the early afternoon…

He gave one final brief glimpse at the elderly couple by the set of swings and abandoned the park.

**- X -**

The opening was shut. He was just about to pull the heavy wooden door open when someone tapped him on his shoulder. Leering eyes gazed down at him, but somehow he didn't feel intimidated. Perhaps being around Yutaka was something that intimidated him even more. The middle-aged man gave a croaky cough.

"We're closed, buddy."

Yamato recalled the many times how both Sora and Suzanne would chatter, or give snide remarks, about their boss. From their descriptions, it was evident that the person who had just spoken to him was he.

"But I need to-"

"Tough luck, we're closed," he growled, arms folding together. "Come back tonight when my tavern is _actually_ open."

Yamato inwardly groaned at the man's sarcasm, he wasn't going to back out that easily. He had made an effort to come here, whether it was closed or not, to find Alejandro…and right now, the tavern's boss was the only lead to where he could find him. Sora had always mentioned to him that Alejandro practically lived at the tavern considering he was paid meals and accommodation to perform there every night. He wondered how Sora had landed a job here when the guy was a complete and utter bastard...

"Didn't you hear me, buddy?" the man was losing his patience, giving the blond-headed man a taste of some attitude.

"I need to see Alejandro."

Somehow, that strung something in the man's chord. His back straightened, and for once, looked at Yamato as a different person. An eyebrow arched, "Whatya need to speak to him for?"

"I'm going to be singing for him tomorrow night."

"My apologies," the man said gruffly, shaking his head. From just the mention of 'Alejandro,' the man was courteous and nicer to him. It appeared that even the bastard-of-a-boss respected the musician. He pulled out one of his many keys, after jingling for the right one, out of the pocket and unlocked the door. "He's upstairs – room 8. Just walk to the end of the bar and press in the activation code, #3852, and you should gain access to use the staircase. Sorry for the trouble."

"It's fine," Yamato shrugged it off, entering the bar. The man waved him goodbye and Yamato acknowledged it by nodding his head. For once, the place wasn't dark. The curtains were drawn open and light filtered the place. It hardly looked like the tavern anymore.

After dialling in the code, he walked up the flight of stairs and found room eight instantly. He knocked on the door. In an instant, it swung open to reveal an unshaven man who instantly ushered him in, shutting the door behind me.

"Want anything to drink?"

"I'm okay, thanks," Yamato said dumbfounded as he absorbed his new environment. The room wasn't even close to tidy – it was a pigsty. It appeared that his own roomed was a haven in comparison to the one in which he was standing in.

The bed wasn't made and the owner's CDs and personal items were either buried or on top of the clothes that hid the floorboards. So…it was a typical man's room…but even Taichi wasn't this insane. He couldn't really blame Alejandro for the state of his apartment because it wasn't only his belongings that made the apartment quite a mess…the wallpaper was tearing, the window was broken and there was water leaking from the ceiling.

Life as a starving artist…

He admired Alejandro for living like this so far…at least he didn't give in to doing something he truly hated. He stuck by his music…and now he would land himself a record deal for doing something he truly loved. And Yamato was going to assist him in doing so.

After Alejandro cleared some clothes off one of the stools, Yamato allowed himself to sit on it while Alejandro jumped onto his bed.

"Really, thanks for doing this for me, man. A rockstar…doing all this shit for little old me," the man laughed. His jet-black hair was like a mop on his head and his hazel eyes danced with amusement.

Yamato didn't know what to think or say. The guy had just welcomed him in his apartment…when they were practically strangers to each other. Sora hadn't even formally introduced them to each other – he didn't understand how he could be so relaxed and calm. He had only seen Alejandro play the piano from afar, but never met him personally. There was something about him that made him feel envious. Perhaps it was his free spirit and that nothing was holding him back – he wasn't sure. Behind the piano, the guy was genius. The guy was serious…Yamato just never knew he was so friendly and open when he wasn't with his instrument, or in that fact, instruments. There were times when Yamato had seen him play the saxophone too.

"You're really quiet, aren't ya? I really owe Sora for convincing you to do this – she said you had a good voice. I didn't know if she was telling the truth or not because she's so critical when it comes to music, ya know? No offence, but I haven't really heard your band yet. I'm not really into rock. I'm more of the Diana Ross, Lionel Ritchie kind of guy. I like my classical rock, though. Queen's good," the man continued to ramble.

It would take an idiot to not realize how much Alejandro was crazy about music. He also remembered that Sora had told him he gave him his old life and girlfriend just to fulfil his career. He wished he had his determination.

He suddenly jumped when he felt a couple of sheets fall onto him. He peered at the front and back of the sheets curiously to notice that it was the sheet music to 'Summer Wind.'

"I figured you'd come by eventually. A true singer needs to know what note he or she'll, mind you, be singing in," he said. "Especially when they're going to focus on the pianist tomorrow night. I recomposed and adjusted the music…because I need to make it original."

"Alright, thanks," Yamato grinned. "You really are something."

He shrugged. "There's always better people."

At least Alejandro wasn't self-conceited as some talented people were. He was humble. After talking about the weather, more music and exchanging each other's personal matters…Yamato decided to leave. It was about three in the afternoon now. He didn't want to take much of his time since he figured that Alejandro needed to practise as well.

He departed the pianist's apartment and walked steadily down the stairs. He paused midway. The dolce notes of the pianoforte drizzled up to him in a quiet melody. As he slowly went down a step, he heard a soft voice accompanying the tune. It was an average voice for a singer, but it sprung a sense of innocence and truthfulness with what she was singing. It sounded like a dreamer, immersed in a reverie. A dreamer lost in her own world. It was someone that he didn't expect to sing so elegantly and delicately. Her voice was so fragile that it was as if she'd scare the notes away. Simply beautiful.

"…_Not at all_

_And I know by your smile it's you_

_Don't care for me, don't cry_

_Let's say goodbye, Adieu_

_It's time to say goodbye, I know that in time_

_It will just fade away, it's time to say goodbye"_

The song was foreign to him, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was what he was witnessing. His feet had unconsciously led him to the last step and he was now leaning against the doorframe, taking in the scene in amazement. She was tilting towards the turning point of the music because she looked suddenly prepared for the next bit of the song. Her cheeks were now blooming slightly pink now and her eyes were closed, feeling the melody enrapture through her veins. Her fiery hair shone and sparkled in the sunlight over her face and he had to squint to just in tandem to see her lush red lips open to sing more…

"_Oh how I love you so, lost in those memories_

_And now you've gone_

_I feel the pain, feeling like a fool, Adieu_

_My love for you burns deep_

_Inside me, so strong_

_Embers of times we had_

_And now here I stand lost in a memory_

_I see your face and smile"_

She then proceeded with the piano solo, playing a string of difficult notes that floated in the air ever so smoothly. Unexpectedly, she snapped out of her daze and looked right through him. Her notes stumbled everywhere, stopping as she covered her mouth with a hand in shock. Her concentrated facial expression was eliminated in an instant.

"Yamato?" she blinked.

It was funny that she had used his real name in her state of fright, for once not resorting to call him by his alias name. He stood straight, sauntering towards her while applauding. A mischievous grin slid onto his face, "Sorry for intruding. I didn't-"

"_Oh_," she sighed, pointing a finger at him. "Don't you dare scare me like that!"

"Sorry," he apologized for the second time.

"I know I don't play as well as Alejandro or you play…nor do I have a fantastic voice as you do…so don't say anything!"

"Hey, I was about to compliment you! Sora, you were really-"

"No thanks. I don't like taking pity compliments," she retorted.

He chuckled. She refused to face him as if to save herself from embarrassment and humiliation.

"So you come here early to practice sometimes?" he assumed.

"I guess…well…not _really_. I don't play the piano. Alejandro only taught me how to play this song only…because, well. It's a special song."

"Why is that?"

She paused for a bit, opening her mouth, then closing it again. She seemed to find the best and appropriate way to answer his question. "My father dedicated this song to my mother."

Whatever it was, he knew she felt uncomfortable talking about it…so he let it go and changed the subject. "What's the song called?"

"Adieu."

"It's got a sad tune."

"It's a sad song," she said lowly. She shook her head. "What brings you here? This place doesn't open till after six."

Yamato flashed the sheets of music in his hands at her. She nodded, catching on and apprehending his reason from the single glance. He just then took account that her hands were now away from the ivory keys, as if the piano was contagious from a certain type of disease.

"You don't have to be scared of the instrument cause I'm here."

"No…it's just my fingers hurt a bit."

"Since you won't allow me to compliment you, I'll critique you then. Next time, make sure to curve your fingers more – like you're holding a tennis ball or something. It'll help you play more effectively," he said.

He bent down towards her and placed her hands into his. Yamato took her right hand and spread it open then curved her fingers as he placed her hand onto the piano. "Like this."

"Thanks teacher," she smiled.

He instinctively wanted to hit himself for not thinking before he had offered to 'teach' her. She was now invading his personal space and he could feel her breath trickling his neck and her hair grazing him…not to mention that they were-

"Holding hands, now?"

Both of them jumped, immediately letting go of each other's hands. There standing before them was his best friend with a ridiculous smile plastered on his face. He was glad that he didn't inherit any genes to blush easily. Unfavourably, the same couldn't be said for Sora whose face was currently a deep shade of scarlet.

"Tai?" Yamato said. "What are you doing here?"

"Same could be said to you."

"We were holding hands…because of my grandma thing," he lied. Sora rolled her eyes evidently knowing that he was such a terrible deceiver.

"Bullshit," Tai swore, still giving a crooked smile at them. "Surprised to see me? I was actually looking for you, man. You weren't at home, you weren't at the studio, you weren't at the music store…then I remember how you'd tell me you'd always go here in your spare time. So I figured you'd be here. I knew the place since you told me it's where you met Sora and I knew where she worked. I just didn't realize that it was open this early."

"It's not," the only woman there corrected.

"How'd you get in?" Yamato queried. He wondered what excuse Tai had made to get in.

"The door was wide open."

"Huh?"

"My fault," Sora said, suddenly aware. "I forgot to lock it. It's non-business hours, after all. Anyway, I should get to the bar. I need to check what alcohol I should restock."

She awkwardly made her way from the two men. She hollered as she left them, "You'd better practice, Yamato! See you tomorrow!"

Taichi and Yamato took their queue to leave, until the blond realized the three large bags his best friend was attempting to hold all at once. Without saying a word, he took one and carried it for the brunette.

"Practice for what?"

"I'm going to sing for Alejandro tomorrow," he responded tersely.

"I see," Tai said. "You're all close to Sora, huh?"

"I have to be…if I want this whole façade to succeed."

"Just don't, well, don't play with her."

"I'm not a player, Tai, you know me."

"Sorry…she's just like a little sister to me, I don't want her to get hurt," Taichi sighed. "She's an only child…she's never really had anyone to depend on. I feel like shit now because…Mimi…it's like I stole her away. Mimi's one of her only friends."

Yamato kept silent, taking a chance to observe Tai's face. He seemed reserved, and for once, not as energetic as he usually was. He was a bit pale and looked rather tired. Not to mention, he had noticed his friend's tone of voice change when he mentioned his girlfriend's name.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," he replied a bit too quickly for his liking.

He'd wait for Tai to tell him because whenever something wrong happened…it didn't take long for him to break down and tell him everything that irked or worried him. "Where's your car parked?"

"Over at your house."

Now this made him feel suspicious. Whatever Tai was going to tell him seemed serious. The guy must have panicked since he did say that he searched everywhere for him…and leaving his car at his house…bringing three heavy bags along without thinking of leaving it in the car-

Out of nowhere, he dropped the bags onto the footpath they had been walking on. Yamato watched the grown man squat down like a young boy, running his fingers through his hair.

"Mimi kicked me out."

Yamato's eyes widened. "_What?"_

As far as he knew, Mimi and Taichi were practically married…and Taichi being kicked out? It was inexcusable! Mimi had to be well aware of the fact how much he loved her and – that was exactly why he loathed relationships with such anger.

Taichi stood up again, gaining his composure. He gave a weak smile, "Is it okay if I crash your home for a while?"

"Sure, Tai," Yamato said. He patted his friend's back. "Let's go."

Not only did he have no time to practice 'Summer Wind' that night…he also didn't realize that he would forget to produce an awaited song for his band. In due time, he eventually would find out…

**- X -**

**And hello to the longest chapter so far! For once, I'm actually satisfied with this chapter. My favourite part that I enjoyed writing was the piano scenario where Matt is looking at Sora. There will be no titles for the chapters anymore because I find it difficult to name them.**

**The song I used was, as said, **Adieu by Emily Bindiger **(from the Cowboy Bebop Soundtrack). It's an amazing song and really fluffy with a melancholy tone to it. This song got me into the 'jazz' genre altogether. **

Thank-you for reading!


	8. Chapter Eight

Written o7.o5.o7

**THANKS to the following reviewers: **_Lynette Meyer, nickygirl, JyouraKoumi, Waltz Turner, SkuAg, pain herself, puasluoma, blue9989, BrownEyesAngel, theladyknight, crest of music and scorpion05._

**- X -**

**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Eight**

**Yamato awoke to **the sound of sickening retching. He didn't bother to cover the look of disgust that he was warding off. Silence sunk in, but it was later vanquished with the noise of more vomiting. He winced. As uncaring and insensitive as it sounded, he was thankful that it wasn't him suffering from the major hangover that his best friend was dealing with. The stench flowed to his bedroom, fuelling his nostrils with the undesirable smell that prompted him to join Taichi if the routine went any longer.

To hinder it from happening, Yamato threw himself off his bed and scurried off to the kitchen where the painful sound was less audible. During his route, he would now and again stretch and let out stifling yawns. His body ached because he had slept in the clothes he had worn the other day. He hadn't managed to change into his boxers considering he was practically up all night; because he was keeping an eye on Taichi that he wouldn't do anything too drastic and out of hand. So…Mimi had kicked him out? Big deal. He wouldn't be heartless if he knew the outcome of their crazy little escapades that happened so constantly. In other words, regardless of the strange quarrel…the pair would be together again. It was naturally normal for both Mimi and Taichi to have these stupid fights once in a while. Yamato was so used to it by now.

At least they had the chance to be together. At least they sought through problems to make their relationship even stronger. Sometimes people's own dreams overrode love and corrupted the idea of it. For instance - his own parents. His mother complained how his father would always come home late from work, while his father argued vice versa. They were both hypocrites and knew that they were both in the wrong. Though he was saddened with his parents divorce, at that time, he knew that it was all for the best. His parents' relationship simply wasn't just working. He had witnessed the endless nights his parents would squabble – the tears his mother would shed, the vases his father would destroy. Yamato certainly knew that both Mimi and Taichi's relationship weren't like that.

The man marched to the stove and turned on the kettle. While waiting for the water to boil, he took out two large mugs from one of the cupboards and prepared some coffee. His thoughts drifted around till the kettle began to whistle loudly. He turned the stove off and poured the sweltering water into the mugs.

"_Matt_," his friend's voice groaned in pain. Even though he was on the other side of his apartment, Tai's calling was still rather perceptible. "I need coffee!"

"Yeah, way ahead of you. Coming!" Yamato replied, picking the handles of both mugs and walking down the hallway. He was quite terrified about making his destination there when he knew what mess would greet him. He hoped that his bathroom wasn't too bad.

He gruffly kicked the door open to see the subject victim of the hangover on his knees as his head hung over the toilet-seat. Like himself, he also was wearing the clothes that he was attired in last night, only that there were splotches of barf. His eyes were red and the guy's burnt-umber hair was in its typical dishevelled array. Taichi's right left hand was holding onto the toilet-bowl for support. Yamato was grateful that it wouldn't be all to challenging to clean up the mess since his friend hadn't puked much onto the tiled floor.

"About bloody time," he swore, putting his vacant hand out for Yamato to give him his mug. "Give it!"

Yamato eyed the scenario, shaking his head and avoiding his friend's plea. He placed both of the mugs onto the top of the sink. He rummaged through the drawers, pulling out a beige towel and rummaged further to pull out the thing that would make him feel much better. He took it into his hand and sprayed the air-freshner into the bathroom more than a couple times necessary. "Catch," he chucked down the towel at Taichi, which he narrowly missed.

"Not fuckin' funny…give me the coffee already! How can you treat me like a fool? I just -"

"Exactly, Tai. You're fully aware that you've got a hangover. I warned you. You drank more. I kept warning you repeatedly. It's your own fault and don't treat me like your goddamn maid when you pulled this on yourself," Yamato spoke up, taking a sip from his mug. As strict as he acted, he was trying to get his friend to stay sane and not surrender into more self-wallowing.

Plus, Taichi had done this a number of times. One argument with Mimi…then he'd go literally insane, get drunk, stay over at his place…and so forth. But it seemed a bit more serious that, this time, Mimi had kicked him out. Perhaps she was losing it to.

Even if Taichi was his best-friend, Yamato did have his limits. He was a busy person, following a busy schedule, abiding a daily hectic life. He understood that it would hurt if that had happened to him…but he was frustrated how, _every time_, Taichi would drink it off. Then again, he knew that he himself was being pretty harsh to him. '_Damn the stressors of life'_, he inwardly grumbled to himself.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Yamato sighed. "I'm being a bit of a dick." He handed Taichi his coffee mug. He then turned on the bath faucet on full blast and turned around to face the brunette yet again. "What I'm trying to say, Tai…is just…you know reality – Mimi loves you. Perhaps she was just confused at that time and didn't know how to react to what you did. She rejected the idea, so what? Try again. Isn't the humiliation worth it? She, as well, already knows that she's holding you by the lead. Pull yourself together, man."

"I should have proposed to you instead. Your more straight-forward when you want to say something," Taichi teased.

"Good…your awful humour is coming back, so I now know that I can leave you?" Yamato questioned his statement, turning off the faucet. "You won't commit suicide on me, no?"

"Shut-up," Taichi rolled his eyes. "Get out of here and let me take a good ol' warm bath already!"

Content and satisfied that his friend's spirit was back, he left him alone to clean himself up. He decided that he would change into a pair of indoor slacks and a loose comfortable clean shirt. He'd take a shower right before his performance that nigh-…_damn_

He stopped finding a clean shirt, jerked from what he was doing and hastily ran into his music room. How could he forget to _not _practice? His body was rigidly tense that he had to take deep breaths to calm his system down. He had been Taichi's side that whole night that he hadn't even thought about the show he had to put on for Alejandro. For crying out loud, Alejandro needed him so that he would be able to get a record deal! His gaze darted around the room then remembered that the pianist had given him the key he would be singing and the sheet music as well. After running back to his bedroom, he came back and was gasping for breath. His eyes flickered at the clock. It was almost noon.

Yamato spread the sheet music on top of his white piano. He switched on his CD player and observed the soothing way that Frank Sinatra sang to the song. Sinatra's deep alluring voice was sung without struggle or strain to his vocal chords with such poise and talent. His words glided so freely in the air and intertwined with the other instruments ever so perfectly without a single flaw.

Then again, Yamato picked up, it wasn't a strenuous song to sing to. He was beyond relieved that he wouldn't have to use any falsetto for the song. It was practically in the same reprising tune in not so terribly high or a not so terribly low key. Even if he was meant to take about two days to rehearse for this, he knew that he could pull it off with some conventional last minute cramming. Yamato just needed to make sure that he had the correct vibrato in his vocals and to make sure to capture the audience's attention to 'take a stroll with him' through the music. After the music was turned off, he approached back onto the piano stool and read the sheet notes.

Alejandro truly was a genius. The pianist hadn't given him his original version of the song, but just the right hand melody. He had written it in simple form so that it wouldn't be too troublesome to read. The melody wasn't that much different to the original piece, but Alejandro had evidently added his own flavour to the music that advanced it in a good way. Yamato sang with the keys, already knowing that it was bad. What truly made Yamato sing good was having a crowd to perform to. It was instinctive to him. The adrenaline of the moment and being put in the 'limelight' was what really mattered. He found rehearsals harder than the real thing.

_'Just do it again and this time with feeling'_

He was about to sing over the song for the second time when he felt his mobile phone vibrate in his pocket, breaking him from the euphonic state he was in. In irritation, he picked it up to only be yelled with an equally irritated person on the other line.

"_Yamato."_

His irritation impeded once he realized who it was had said his name. There was yet another thing that he had carelessly neglected as well…

"Oh, Kanji. I'm really sorry," he stuttered distractedly, trying to find the correct excuse to use. "Coming back to the studio completely left my mind! I was so-"

"How can something like that _leave_ your mind?" the rhetorical question was spoken rather sardonically from his manager. "You're not a teenager anymore, Yamato! You've got to own up to your own responsibilities! Do you understand-"

"I couldn't make it, there was an emergency last night! My friend…he…damnit, Kanji. I don't think I can even get the composition done by tonight!" Yamato exclaimed, suddenly regretting what he had just said. He massaged his forehead, "So…did everyone turn up last night, Kanji?"

"Everyone…excluding you," the grumpy voice responded, emphasising his point further. "What do you need, Yamato? A whole week? You didn't used to be like this! You'd probably have a song given to me in one or two hours! And don't give me toss that you were busy-"

"But I am…I have to do something tonight."

The line was cut off. Yamato couldn't believe that he had not even thought about it. It was like he was more focused in performing that night. Is that how little it meant to him to be the lead singer in the band? He then recalled the sheets and tape that Akira had given him. It seemed as if Akira had a sixth sense and knew that he mightn't have the time…which was probably why he had offered his composition for him. Considering he was still wearing the same garbs from yesterday, he pulled them out of his pockets and placed them on one of his desks in the room. He'd have to check it out some other time. Before he could get back to practising, he had to make sure that everything was settled with his band. He basically needed to persuade Takahashi to explain to their manager his proposition. Yamato quickly informed Takahashi by messaging him on his mobile phone. Yamato acknowledged that he had to tell Takahashi the truth, so he did.

He let a sigh of relief when he found that the peacemaker had replied, understanding his dilemma. Takahashi had somehow won over Kanji to have a break off using some excuse that their lead singer was getting restless and needed time to revamp his energy. The drummer then threatened him that he'd better 'kick ass' that night. Yamato really didn't know how he'd survive without Takahashi. The blond headed man left his mobile phone outside of the room to get rid of any more diversions, practising for a good hour.

After going over the song for the eighth, he knew that it was already mastered. Still…it felt so dull. There was something missing. It lacked a taste that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was flustering him with pure resentment. He somewhat wished that he had turned down Sora's suggestion…therefore his band wouldn't be disappointed at him. If it wasn't for Sora, he wouldn't be in this position in the first place.

_Sora…_

A smile suddenly took over his features. A plan had finally come to him. It was brilliant. He now knew what he had to do.

When she accepted to take the chance to be part of the 'Project Wife Ordeal,' she had given him all her basic contact information (from her mobile phone number to her home address). At that time, he knew they were 'more than strangers,' but he hadn't expected her to be so straightforward. He hadn't expected her to trust him so easily. All the same, she doubtlessly wondered why he had trusted and picked her to be his pseudo wife in the first place. Therefore it was equal; it made them an equally strange couple. Although she was one that trusted strangers easily…she was quite stubborn to convince. After a _lot_ of persuasion on the phone she finally concurred to take a part in the stratagem.

**- X -**

He walked out of the limousine. He was already attired for that special night. Yamato appeared neatly groomed, having his face shaven and gelling back his dirty blond hair in an orderly fashion. He wore a crisp clean jet-black suit and a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top giving off his neat appearance to be a bit dishevelled. With finishing touches he had slid on brown contacts, to elicit his disguise, over his azure eyes and a black bowler hat (that slanted on the left side of his head and showing off his own stylishness). He felt like a goofball wearing the bowler hat, but he knew it would be a good disguise and great costume for the performance.

He rang the doorbell again. Yamato found himself anxiously shuffling on his feet in front of her apartment, suddenly enduring a wave of nervousness as he waited for her to come out. Had he finally thought he lost it? To him…it felt like a date. It was inevitable that she was to be his date. But it had been such a long time ago since he had been out on one. He wasn't sure what to do and his dating skills had pretty much turned rusty and had gone done the drain by now. Well, it was his fault. He had turned the stupid night into a date without intending to.

As he stood outside, he could perceive muffled shuffling from behind the door. He peeked from the window and caught her doing some speedy tidying up. He then suspiciously noticed her draw a large curtain across a certain part of the apartment, blocking the once visible room from sight. The next thing he knew, the door swung open.

In greeting, she beamed at him, which he returned back. She was wearing a scarlet red dress but he couldn't completely see it since she had a taut charcoal coat wrapped around her thin frame. Her face was slightly pink, Yamato assumed from the beforehand shuffling she had been doing. She caught him staring that made her beam become wider. "You know…you're lucky I approved of this, Matthew."

He chuckled and held out the bouquet of flowers, "These are for you."

She took them from him, cradling the bouquet in her arms. "White roses, huh? Interesting pick," she commented. "They symbolize unity, sincerity, loyalty, secrecy, purity, and a love stronger than death."

Yamato had avoided getting her red roses because they symbolized love and it was too cliché. He wanted something else that was different. Out of the six interpretations that Sora had said, secrecy and purity were the two symbolizations that seemed to represent her from his perspective. Secrecy because he still hardly knew anything about her and her life besides bartending and being his Taichi's girlfriend's best friend remained a mystery; Purity because her aura seemed to emit a sense of innocence and fascination.

"You seem to know a lot about this."

"Once upon my lifetime I used to be a flourist," she smirked. "Though, my personal favourite are blue orchids."

"That obviously isn't a hint," he laughed. "I'll take note next time."

"These are fine…though. Just from the positioning and arrangement…I can tell that these were pretty pricey, even for you," she simpered gratefully. "But a love stronger than death? I didn't know you felt like that about me, Matthew," she teased.

"Fine, I get the point…just don't rub it in. Blue orchids next time, I know," he said. And then he caught himself. He inwardly groaned, something he was accustomed to these days. He was flirting. No, _they_ were flirting. She, also, had caught onto their form of conversing too. He awkwardly scratched his back and nodded his head at the shining sleek limousine, "Jyou's expecting us. We need to be at the rehearsal asap."

She grasped the opportunity to change the subject as well, playing along. "Yes, I'll put these flowers away first." She was still standing there, staring at him. He then apprehended that she was taking in his new appearance in speculation. "I'll meet you in the limo. I won't take long." A twinkle stirred in her eyes as she quickly went back into her home.

He shrugged, sauntering down the cement steps and slipped into their ride that was parked in front of Sora's apartment. Yamato wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. Even though externally he looked calm and reserved, inside he becoming another story. He wondered whether they could pull it off…

The separating screen between the passenger seats and the driver wound down. His chauffer turned his head around to regard the musician with a peculiar expression.

"What?" Yamato scowled.

Jyou sniggered. "You were supposed to escort your lady." Among the few people that knew the idea about _Project Wife_, Yamato couldn't resist but tell his dependable driver, so was one of the people that was in on their little secret. "Shut-up, Jyou." Jyou chortled in response.

Nevertheless, Sora entered the vehicle and moved smoothly amongst the leather interior to take a seat next to him. "Hello Jyou." "Greetings Mrs. Ishida," he winked. "I'll leave you now." The screen slid up leaving him to survey her through his gaze. The limousine lurked forward and began to travel towards its destination.

Clutched in her hands was a branded purse. Strapped over one of her shoulders was a casual larger duffle bag; presumedly where she had stuffed her uniform in because she would be also working that night. Her auburn straight hair fell over her face as she placed the duffle bag off her shoulders and began penetrating it.

"Are you leaving your hair down tonight?" he queried.

As she continued to look for whatever she was in search for, she answered, "Actually, I was thinking of making my hair a bit wavy…but I didn't have time too…considering this wasn't properly planned out. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my hair. It's not really my expertise…I'm going to leave it for Mimi to do."

"She's coming tonight?" he said. "Yes." He was thankful that Taichi had decided against coming to the tavern since Mimi would be there. He was so certain that she would be attending. According to Sora, he was indeed on the mark.

"You know-" they both spoke in unison. "Ladies first," he held out a hand for him to say what she thought first. At least, now, Jyou wouldn't say that he didn't have manners of how to treat a woman. She pulled out what she was looking for, and with an unanticipated motion she was closer to him that he could feel her breath. He blinked, uncertain of her reason. His cheeks burned, but was appreciative that he didn't blush that easily. He loathed his hormones. The next thing he knew, he currently possessed a freshly folded handkerchief on his blazer pocket. She began talking as if nothing happened, "Yes. I'm guessing that you found out about what went on between Mimi and Tai. She whinged to me all last night about it. Crying, regretting…you know how they both can be so spontaneous. And with what Taichi did…that was something she least expected. Don't worry about them…I'm used to it. They'll be-"

"…back together in no time," he ended for her. "I know that too."

She nodded her head, displaying one of her smiles. Whenever she smiled…she looked like a completely different person. It was as if her heart sparked out from her eyes. Yamato felt her delicate fingers fix the collar on his white shirt and allowed her to add some touch to what he was wearing. He was impressed. "That's better." She passed him her make-up mirror and he checked what she had attached on him. He now knew the reason to why she had given him a quick scan before putting her roses away. She had looked-out for anything that was lacking on his outfit. The handkerchief, he understood that she'd have one. Though, he hadn't expected her to own a tie. In fact…it was the same colour as her dress.

"We're matching now," she stated.

"And so we are," he concurred.

The limousine stopped running. In seconds, their chauffer opened the door. Yamato stepped out first and gallantly offered for her to link her arm with his as they walked into the jazz bar. He'd show Jyou his lady man skills, all right.

**- X -**

From the dress-room he could hear '_Speak Like A Child'_ being played by the pianist. The tricky notes were played in an even faster beat than the original version that it swamped the crowd, stilling and awing them at the marvellous performance.

_'Jazz is like a great blues band that fell down the stairs.'_

He had once rented out a Michael Bublé DVD and the artist's quote still stuck in his mind. In fact, it somehow was true. Yamato now understood why jazz was the hardest genre of music to play. People, these days, usually saw it as old classical junk with notes that didn't make sense whatsoever. How wrong they were…

The tricky notes were added with skill and precision. If someone like Alejandro could master such skill…they were beyond talented.

He stepped forward towards the thinly laced curtains. In spite that the curtains were quite opaque, he could still see through the tiny grains. The bar was more crowded than usual. Apart from the consistent visitors there were a lot of unfamiliar faces. He guessed it had something to do with the subtle advertisements that swept small parts of the city. The sight of this made him fall into a fit of irregular breaths, but he recovered instantaneously. For some strange reason he didn't feel as nervous as he usually felt when he had to perform in his band. For once, in a very long time, the adrenaline that he elicited was _excitement. _

"You're on," the organiser of the event indicated. The man gave him an enthusiastic pat on the back. "Make Alejandro proud." He gave a gruff nod, clearing his throat. Adjusting his hat towards the left side of his head, Yamato drew the curtain away…stepping onto the stage.

The cigarette smoke and the warm blinding lights welcomed his presence and misted over the audience. It was mystifying to envision the throngs of people gathering around the stage because of this. The only persons that he managed to see were the people far away. Among them was the owner of tavern, Mimi and Suzanne whom had her thumbs up. It was all the encouragement he needed. This was for Alejandro – the person who worked so hard to attain such an amazing status. This was a _real_ musician who really deserved all the fame and glamour that the world could give.

His feet wandered towards the shining pianoforte and languorously looked down at the celebrant of the night. Alejandro rigidly sat on his stool. They exchanged glances. The pianist gave him a quivering simper that Yamato had to smile at. _Good luck._

A random person who worked at the bar handed him a microphone. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. Yamato tilted his head towards Alejandro, "Good-evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Matthew…and isn't this man here spectacular or what?" The tavern was dominated with loud cheers and almost laughed aloud when he saw that the pianist's cheeks flushed a deep red. "My man, Alejandro, will be playing for you his own original version of the song called the Summer Wind. I will accompany him with my vocals. Hope you all enjoy this."

As soon as he had finished his sentence, the brass sounded. He closed his eyes. A few seconds later, the keys of the piano were to be heard. Yamato's voice then drawled out into the microphone. His husky voice combining into the melody, he sang. _"The summer wind / Came blowing in / From across the sea. It lingered there / To touch your hair / And walk with me," _as he ended that section of the verse the piano tumbled in and took advantage of the parts of the melody when he wasn't singing. And then he acted…

The satin red didn't fail to meet his eye. He didn't make a scene to pretend to catch that person sitting on of those tables, but was blatantly obvious to make the people see him act his part. Act his part…that he was in love with that woman. Thin spaghetti straps held up her crimson satin dress – the same colour as her cheeks. From her auburn hair being down, it was presently in a neat French Twist that caused her neck to be clearly visible…or kissable, as a male mind would think. Mimi had certainly done a well job in fixing her tresses.

Sora sat there, composed. Her legs wrapped around each other as she held her margarita glass with such grace and class. Some random guy whistled at the sight. The spotlight was now situated on her, and her silhouette hung over her with avid mysteriousness. Yamato slowly made his way towards her, singing into the microphone yet again. "_All summer long / We sang a song. And then we strolled that golden sand. Two sweethearts / And the summer wind._"

By now he had already made it down the steps of stage and took her hand, giving her a slight kiss on the back of her delicate hand. He took off his hat, holding it up, and then putting it back onto his neatly matted blond haired head. She batted her eyelash, feigning to be exceptionally _girlier _than she typically was. He still held it as he ushered her off from her chair, both walking slowly back onto the stage. She persisted on with him, in her cool demeanor. She was provided with a microphone and began to sing her verse so silkily that it made him shiver. "_Like painted kites / Those days and nights / They went flying by. The world was new / Beneath a blue / Umbrella sky._" She not to exaggeratedly waved her hair up at the ceiling. "_Then softer than / A piper-man / One day it called to you. And I lost you, I lost you to the summer wind."_

Although songs were mainly about the music and the instruments…there was always one thing that artists always lacked. That was the acting. Singers always managed to _forget_ the feelings involved with the song. Yamato had even seen a fair amount of vocalists sing a sad melody with melancholy lyrics with a pure smile on their faces. It made him shake his head at music in utter disgrace. It didn't matter how good your voice was…it _only _mattered how you portrayed the song to the crowds and _how_ you actually did it. That was a matter of acting – acting like you were that person singing _your_ song. And Yamato was glad and appreciative when Sora took it on board, crooning soulfully from her heart.

"_The autumn wind_," he sang softly. "(_The autumn wind_)." He couldn't help but present another one of his smiles when she sang in second voice…repeating the words that he would sing. "_And the winter wind (And the winter wind) / They have come and gone."_

He gestured with the click of his fingers at the brass section on the stage, as they began to take the non-lyric part of the song to their own benefit to excel their brilliance. Off course, Alejandro's keys still kept the whole song bound together…the rest of the big band and the vocalists were just pawns on his chessboard of music. After pointing at the brass, he proceeded in singing. "_And still the days (Still those days) / Those lonely days / They go on and on (On and on). And guess who sighs (Guess who sighs) / His lullabies (His lullabies) . Through nights that never end._"

In unison harmony, they sang together in perfect pitch and tune, "_My fickle friend / The summer wind._" By himself, he sang the next short line, "_The summer wind_." "_Warm_," she then repeated, "_Summer wind_." And then, in conclusion…they sang the last sentence together, "_Mmm the summer wind_."

With one final tricky bar being played, the crowd stood up and applauded. A standing ovation. Yamato stared at the people standing before them in astonishment. He had never seen such a terrific view… He was so accustomed to performing in front of moshpits with the throngs of fans jumping up and down. But this – this held a completely different reason and carried its own stunning atmosphere. Still holding his hand, Sora lifted it up, doing a quick courtesy. He followed by doing a polite bow. Into the microphone, he spoke out, "Thanks for supporting, our man, Alejandro!" "Yeah!" his duet partner screamed. Later on, in his life, Yamato would come to realize that that moment in time would be one of his favourites.

After taking his hat off and attempting to mess his hair (with no avail because of the extensive amounts of gel he had used), he had Lady Luck on his side considering he had found himself a vacant table and chair to sit at. He blended nicely into the crowd and fortunately didn't capture any attention. Most of the people there still had their eyes on the main pianist who still was playing uncontrollably for the past two hours straight. He was playing only solo performances now.

Yamato sighed, his inner peace stirring within him, as he languidly leaned back on his chair…soaking in the instrumental music. The false smile that he had delivered to the audience was gone.

"You don't look so hot," the older bartender commented as she sat besides him, joining his solitary figure. He smirked, "Actually, Suzanne…I am very hot."

"Really now?" she snickered.

"Not exactly hot…just the lights are making me dizzy. I'm actually quite happy," he said honestly. Outside he may have appeared drained and tired…but in side he was satisfied. He was happy.

She pushed a huge glass of beer towards him, "Here. On me, you've earned it." "Thanks." Suzanne ruffled his hair and left his side to wipe down and clear out some tables next him. In the background he still could hear the sound of Alejandro pelting to a slower melody. Yamato took a swig of the drink, continuing to observe the new-yet-soon-to-be-famous musician. Alejandro had sweat visibly glistening on his brow and patently hadn't bothered to wipe it away because he was so focused. With no break whatsoever…Yamato wondered how he managed to sustain the entire spotlight on his own. He yelled out towards Suzanne, "Get him something to drink. He's getting dehydrated." She took a glimpse at the pianist and nodded, "Alright. I'll go do that." She disappeared past the people into the bar.

The cigarettes left the surrounding to be filled with smoky chocking air coinciding with the bitter scent of alcohol. A doze of perfume drifted towards him, lingering in the contaminated air. He already knew who was coming and soon enough faced Sora. She was dressed out of her guise and was now wearing her ebony uniform. "I heard," she started, gasping for breath, "That Al…that Al's made a good impression. They love him." "That's great!" Yamato exclaimed in reply. "Well, Matthew, I just wanted to say thanks."

In a swift movement she leaned forward and gave him a brisk embrace. "That was a superb idea. I owe you big." He chuckled, "Not as much as I owe you. You're doing me such a big favour with being my wife in the first place. Besides, you sang fantastically. Persuading you has certainly paid off."

"That was my first time performing to a crowd...and that," she looked at the people still in the tavern, "was _huge. _Anyway, Matthew…I gotta go back and help Suzanne. Again, thanks a bunch!"

He watched the second woman disappear from his side that night only to be accompanied by someone he had least expected. "What was that? Is _she_ the reason why you've been neglecting us?" The drummer of the Teen-Age Wolves casually sat besides him. Takahashi was wearing a beanie…yet another infamous disguise in public of theirs. Yamato glared at him. "Hey…chill man, I was just kiddin'."

"Why are you here?"

"You know how it goes…wanted to know what you were so fussed over…what made you think of something else besides our band. In other words, I rang up your brother to find out the bar that you've been constantly going to," he said. "It's all for her, isn't it?"

"I'm just a normal husband giving a helping hand for my wife," Yamato said, amusingly waiting for how his band mate was going to react.

Takahashi blinked. Staring at the bar where she served a customer, then back at him. Appall overrode his facial expression, "_What_?" Like Taichi, he ended up filling in Takahashi with the whole Project Wife situation. The drummer had pretty much merited an explanation after the cover up with their manager, Kanji.

"Still…why do this…why blow all of this just for her? You're just talking to her because she's agreed to some idiotic plan you've constructed. There are more things you need to worry about as well, Yam-_Matthew_. Even Akira's concerned about your behaviour lately. You can't go off and suddenly do your own thing. We're a team?"

"You'd be pretty blind if you haven't realized that we haven't been a _team_ in a long time," the lead singer objected.

"Just forget I brought it up," Takahashi spoke stressfully. "But I sort of understand why you came here tonight. It's great to see you up on stage."

"You're always on stage with me and the other members…"

"You're presence on stage tonight was like how you were when we were novices to the music industry. You were _you_. Someone who I haven't seen for a long time. You were actually happy out there…congratulations. You did really well, Matt."

"Thanks," Yamato said. He decided to take the compliment considering praises from someone as high-and-might as Takahashi were rare. "I think I'm going to crash home soon. It's getting late."

"Yes, that's right. You also need to compose that song that you've promised Kanji," the drummer said. "Good luck."

Yamato was about so say bye to Suzanne and Sora…but they appeared too busy serving the one too many customers, whereas Alejandro was still crying out this jazz flavours into the piano. Yamato separated ways with Takahashi at the car park and hopped into a taxi.

When he had arrived back home, he could hear engines blazing. He hurried into the living room to still see his best friend there with drool rolling down the tip of his open mouth. Taichi had fallen asleep and left the playstation on. Yamato assumed that Taichi had brought it in one of his bags since he didn't own one. Yamato didn't want to wipe the drool away and instead chose to take the controls out of his friend's hands. Before he was going to drop dead onto his bed…he chucked a blanket over his friend's body.

**- X -**

The next thing he knew his eyes opened blankly the red numbers of _4:32am_ in his dark bedroom. He sat up in bed groaning, damning the person to hell who was ringing him up at such an early hour. "Hello?" he croaked onto his mobile.

"Yamato?" a panicked voice spoke. "I…"

"Jun?" he questioned. Why was she ring up so early in the morning. Out of all people…he hadn't expected his Ex. Number one fan to be dialling him up.

"You know how I am…I get an early jog in the morning before going to work to open the store. And then I found Mimi…and one of her friends. They kept screeching about record deals and some dude called Alejandro and how their manager shouted them free drinks on the house-"

"MIMI! You spewed on my Gucci purse!"

"So Mimi's basically drunk?" he asked wearily. "Yeah, that wasn't her though. Some friend of hers," she sighed. "They're both completely out of it. Mimi's already passed out and the other girl is basically screaming at an unconscious body. I was about to ring up Tai before she collapsed…but Mimi got so freaked out, so I had no choice but to ring you up…because I don't know anyone else who will take care of her. I figured that she's had a fight with Tai to get her so…slaughtered."

"You figured right," he said. Yamato was already out of bed and had his keys dangling in his fingers. "Where are you now?"

"Besides the music store."

"I'll be there," Yamato said, slipping on a pair of thong slippers. "Oh…one thing…what colour hair does this _other _girl have?"

"Red," Jun instantly replied.

A voice slurred in the distance, "Are you talkin' about _mee_?"

It was a good thing that Yamato had noticed Sora bringing that purse of hers that night.

**- X -**

**This is my favourite (and longest) chapter yet. It's almost 2am. I've gotta wake up 6am for school. Really sorry for the REALLY late update. My applicable reasons are on my profile.**

**At the beginning of this chapter…I was meant to make the manager go all out and Yamato and have Yamato scream back at him – but it didn't type well. HOPE you enjoyed this chapter as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for reading and please review ;D**

**Flipstahhz**

**PS. If you're wondering how Yamato sounds like when he's singing…just think of **Michael Bublé **x **Ryan Cabrera **voice wise.**

**For Sora…think of the lead female singer from **M.Y.M.P.** If you don't know this band and want to figure out Sora's voice…I highly recommend you downloading **'Tell Me Where It Hurts**.' (I repeat, by **M.Y.M.P**.) That band is one of my favourite acoustics.**

**Take care for now!**


	9. Chapter Nine

Written 15.o9.o7

**Many thanks and hearts to **_nickygirl, MoogleX, the-lionness, SpiffyCookie, BrownEyesAngel, Waltz Turner, sangkun, Stars4mel, theladyknight, Kari Kamiya Takaishi, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, calilover _**for all reviewing & **_Chibi Bishi plus TheWitchLady for reading all the chapters in one go._

_To those who have reviewed the previous chapter: I'll reply to your reviews in the next couple of days_

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Nine**

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**She sat up** on her bed, still clothed in her scarlet dress she had worn the night before and her tresses were eschewing from anywhere but the definition of tidy – something he wasn't used to.

Yamato stretched, hearing her stir. He stood up and went into the nearest bedroom. He had gotten up about five minutes before she had and his body ached for sleeping in the wrong position on her sofa. After he had picked her up by the music store he had driven her home. She wasn't exactly sober, so he had to fish through her purse to find the keys. As soon as he led her to her own room and made sure she was okay, he had collapsed into a slumber on her living room sofa. He had decided to stay at her house for the night because he was too exhausted and had already woken up Taichi when he had left to pick Sora up.

She blinked, looking around her room. Her eyes then focused on him. "Matthew?" Her back straightened, mouth agape. "No…we didn't…we didn't…did we?"

Connecting the dots, he understood what she meant then vigorously shaking his head. "We didn't. I wouldn't do that…one of my friends saw you with Mimi a bit out of hand last night. So I went to pick you up. I apologize for going through your purse…I needed to find the key to your house."

She arched an eyebrow, "Then why are you still in my house…if we didn't, you know…and…you're just wearing your boxers!"

Realization struck him. God was he an idiot. After being rudely awakened by Jun to pick Sora up, he had been so tired to even notice what he was wearing. He had blindly gotten out of bed, snatched the keys and hopped into his car. Not having a good night's sleep always bothered his common sense. Then again…he had to admit he was pretty worried and wasn't properly thinking. He usually wasn't this rash and reckless. That was Taichi's realm of expertise.

He sighed, beginning to explain, "I swear, we didn't do it. I just…wasn't thinking straight when I went to pick you up. Let's just say that 4am isn't the best time for me. And the reason why I'm still at your house is that I fell asleep straight away on your sofa…I thought it would be okay."

"I must have been such a hassle. I can't believe I assumed that. I know you're not a bad ass for a guy," she loudly groaned.

"Gee, thanks," Yamato snidely commented back. She stood up and began to clasp a cream bathrobe around her slim frame and went to her wardrobe to select what to wear. It was already day and the afternoon light was seeping in through her curtains.

"Where's Mimi?"

"My friend named Jun, I don't know if you know her, offered to take her home before she started work."

She laughed quietly "I'm so sorry that I dragged you into this mess, Matthew. I don't usually get that drunk. Just had to celebrate, you know?"

He never liked the idea of females getting intoxicated. He disapproved of it. If it were to be guys, he understood that. But a woman getting drunk…it was a different story. He pretty much got turned off by it. He held his tongue back, wanting to tell her off. It wasn't really his place to give her a lecture. It wasn't as if he had the authority to do so, it was her life…he didn't even border the line between friend and boyfriend. All he knew was that she was his pseudo wife. He then realized how stuffed up this was going to be. With his grandparents coming soon, there was still a lot of work to do to be able to convince them of his new wife.

He stared at her again. He shook her head. From the first time he had met her, he had never pictured her to be the drinking type. Then again, he should have considered it since she _was_ a bartender. "What exactly did you drink to get you out of it so badly?"

"A few _Asahis_, three shots of _Bacardi 151_ and some-"

"Are you insane?" he exclaimed, baffled. She was talking so lightly about having three shots of the infamous _Flaming Dr. Pepper _as if it were nothing. This woman was becoming stranger the more he was getting to know her. He did not understand how her tiny figure could take that amount of alcohol.

"I don't get wasted that easily. Ladies drinks keep me pretty sober," she said. "C'mon, Matthew. When you're shouted free drinks…you can't deny it. Especially when it's from our boss who never shouts us anything _free_. At least I didn't set it on fire."

"Your hair's already that colour, you wouldn't need to," he sighed. She rolled her chocolate shaded eyes.

"As I said before, I don't do this all the time. I'm usually Mimi's designated friend."

"A designated friend?" he questioned, being the first time he had heard such a term.

"Yeah, that's it," she replied, smirking. "Mimi's apartment isn't too far from most of the bars in Tokyo…plus, she always vomits when she's drunk…so taxis, my car or any form of public transport is out of the question. That's the reason to why I'm usually stuck walking her back to her apartment instead of getting drunk alongside. Thus, I'm the designated friend…Make sense?"

"Crystal," he said tersely. "Trust me, I know the feeling."

It sort of reminded him back in high school years when he was the first to get his car license. Taichi was also eligible to get his licence, but he never could be stuffed to actually sit through the test since he didn't have a car. On the other hand, Yamato had saved for his car since he was given allowance from his father. He loathed the nights when he'd drive around Odaiba with Taichi screaming at the top of his lungs and Takeru pumping the music on full blast. Nevertheless, they were both drunk. He always wondered how Taichi managed to get drinks considering they were underage. But he reminisced how disturbing it was that his own younger brother was drinking with his best friend while he was stuck being their driver going on stupid, yet amusing, escapades.

"Looks like I've got everything. I'm going to get all cleaned up," she muttered, one arm carrying a set of clothes and towel. Her free hand pointed at one of her wardrobes on the opposite side of the room. "You should choose something to wear as well, you'll easily get recognized with paparazzi swarming around wanting to take a picture of you. I think I've got a couple of hats in there too. Feel free to watch TV, I'm going to treat you for brunch."

Before he had the chance to object, she was already out of the room and heading for her long-awaited shower. He followed her instructions and went to the wardrobe, opening it. Inside was quite a lot of men's clothing. He estimated about ten shirts, three jackets and five sets of pants. He was bemused. Why in the world did Sora have so much men's clothing. If she had straight away assumed that they had slept together…could this be…could this be her other nightstands left over clothing? He winced at the thought.

Hand checking the labels of the clothing, he realized that he was thankfully wrong. All the clothing was of the same brand and still had price tags on them. He was grateful that they were crisp new clothes, but he still felt curious to why she had a whole wardrobe of them in her room. Shrugging it off, he chose to slip on a navy polo and black pants. He rummaged the wardrobe for any sort of hat, and found a white visor. It was better than nothing; he plunked it over his blond messy strands and glanced at his appearance through her body-sized mirror.

He went back into the lounge room and switched on the television to the news.

"…_will be released in Japan. It has already been released in France and has become quite popular. On other news, famous adventure novelist, Takeru Takaishi, has participated in a fundraising basketball game. All the money earned will be going to various charity funds-"_

Yamato chuckled to himself. He was so content and proud of his brother. TK had managed to also become a well-known writer, yet he still remained the same and wasn't washed up in the sparkling corruption of fame. He wished the same could be said about himself. It was only until recently he had noticed what he was turning to and despised it.

"You ready?" she appeared, smiling.

"You look refreshed."

"Don't be too convinced. My head is killing me. I need to be nursed with a good brew of coffee." He sniggered.

"Hey, don't underestimate the healing powers of coffee!" she praised excitedly. "Let's get that brunch, already!'

"You don't need to shout me."

"Too bad, I insist," Sora said sternly. "Just think of it a thank-you for dealing with me."

"You are my wife. I gotta get you out of trouble once in a while. It comes with the package of being your husband."

"Haha, real cute," Sora laughed. She approached him, he instinctively stepped back a bit. But her hands latched onto her collar and smoothed it out. He caught the same whiff or rose perfume and how hypocritical she was. Sure, blue orchids were her favourite…but he definitely knew what a rose smelt like. He blushed. The lingering smell of perfume and alcohol reminded him when he had tucked her in.

She randomly placed a pair of black shades over his azure eyes. "You can borrow these." He accepted it, nodding. Yamato let out a sigh of relief when she took a few steps away from him, gaining his personal space back.

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"That's _it…_tell me why you've been acting so strange ever since you've come back from your apartment!"

He had been driving his car and erratically turning at any corner while murmuring obscenities under his breath. His fingers were tightened on the wheel and face turning pale. Before having a morning/lunch with Sora, he had dropped over his apartment because he had forgotten his car license. So Sora pretty much encouraged him to go fetch it if he was to be randomly caught.

"Matthew," she warned, waiting for his report on the matter, in which he had witnessed.

Yamato avoided her eye contact and continued to stare at the road in front of him. He shuddered, "Do I have to? I'm still trying to get the image out of my head."

"What image? Describe it."

"There is no way in hell I will describe Taichi and Mimi's sexual interactions to you!" he spat.

"So they've made up? If only I could have seen your face when you walked in on them," Sora snickered, rolling down the window. "You should be happy that Tai will be moving out of your apartment soon."

"Off well damn course I'm happy for them. But I don't find fondling and all that gruesome stuff in my apartment appetizing. I think I'll have to spray and disinfect everything that they've touched." He spluttered on, "They were both nude for crying out loud!"

"And there you go. You've just described it. Argh," Sora grimaced. "You really didn't have to say that." She leaned towards the stereo and pressed play, letting the music boom out of the speakers and clear their mind off the thoughts of what their two best friends had been doing.

_Like a circle in a spiral_

_Like a wheel within a wheel_

_Never ending or beginning_

_On an ever-spinning reel_

_As the images unwind_

_Like the circles that you find_

_In the windmills of your mind_

_Pictures hanging in a hallway_

_Or the fragment of a song_

_Half-remembered names and faces_

_But to whom do they belong?_

_When you knew that it was over_

_You were suddenly aware_

_That the autumn leaves were turning_

_To the colour of her hair?_

He noticed that it was her first time seeing her hair down. Her auburn locks capered against the breeze as he sped down the road. He hadn't realized how capturing her hair was, seeing how it shone fiercely against the sun. Yamato had always thought her complexion was darker, but she was actually fair. He didn't know how different the woman appeared during daytime. She looked more open and free, easier to read and to comprehend in comparison from seeing her in the jazz bar. The darkness would sweep and engulf her like a masquerade… and know he could see her… He could even make out a small dimple on her right cheek, something he hadn't recognized before.

They later ended up at the nearest McDonalds they could find (considering the place where Sora had wanted to go was now out of the way due to Yamato's undirected route). Most of the girls that he had dated in the past required an expensive restaurant matched with a formal suit, but Sora fitted under a different category altogether. It seemed she didn't really care where they were going to eat. Then again, once they had gotten a table he had noticed the only thing she was sipping on was a coffee. He, on the other hand, had ordered a large Big Mac Meal.

"Thns agayn," he said gratefully through a mouth full of french-fries.

"You're welcome. It's all on me," she said. "For last night…and about the news I'm about to tell you."

"News?" he repeated curiously, eyes lifting from his burger he was about munch on. "What sort of news?"

"I'm going to be really busy for the next three to four days. Something at work has come up and I have to help out with just about everything. I know, I should have told you about my tight schedules here and there before accepting to be your," she flicked her finger carrying the wedding ring, "…your wife."

"No, it's fine. You see, I've gotten an extension for one of the songs I was meant to produce…so I'm going to busy the following days as well. My grandparents come this Friday…yet, we've got so much to do to. All that we have right now are only our fake wedding rings, but everything else…we gotta work on."

"Like what…kissing?" she teased but the amusement vanished from her face when she caught him pondering. "I was kidding. We could just have the typical kiss on cheek as a sign of affection."

"You don't know my grandparents. Namely, my grandmother. She'd probably want us to be making out in front of her," he said. He groaned. "This is so screwed."

"We've got other choices besides intimacy," Sora reminded. She pulled out a baby blue photo album from her large bag, "Which leads me to this."

From the familiar white lace framing the edges, Yamato knew it belonged to him. Somehow, during his busy timetable he had dropped it at her house. Meanwhile, Sora she had mailed her own photo album to him via post.

She tapped on the cover of his album, "We've still got this option. We simply need to through each other's histories and what we used to do and liked."

"Sounds good to me," Yamato agreed. "It's not like we'll have any other time to do this. So…let's start. I didn't bring your album with me today…so I'll just jump off to random pictures I can remember."

"Anything you want to know?" she asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She looked a bit nervous. He said calmly, "You know, Sora, we don't have to go forward with this. You can pull out anytime you want."

"It's fine, just ask me what you want to know."

"But…I don't want to make you uncomfortable. You don't have to do all this. And asking about what you used to do-"

"Get on with it," she laughed. "You worry too much, Matthew."

Somehow, he suddenly found it annoying and irritating how she always called him Matthew. It was like she looked down on him in a dictating and patronizing sort of way. He understood that it could be for the whole 'disguise' reason, but ever since they had met each other he was just Matthew…not much more, not much less. She had never addressed him as Yamato - his _real_ name. He wondered how his name sounded from her lips.

She stared at him questionably. He cracked a simper. "I was just wondering why you were hiding all the baby photos from me."

"Oh, that," she said, nodding to herself. "I knew you'd ask me about that. It wasn't that I didn't want you to see…it's just truthfully I, myself, haven't been also able to access them for over a decade now."

"How come?"

"My dad has them all. He lives most of the time in Kyoto because he's a professor at on of the universities there. So while my mother and I weren't looking, he snuck them into his briefcase. He visits once in a while…mainly every Christmas."

"Why? Did your parents have a divorce?" he queried. Her story seemed to be hitting close to home for him. "I know how that feels. My parents separated about when I was eight. I lived with my dad, whereas my younger brother lived with my mother."

"Actually, my parents aren't divorced. They somehow maintained a long-distance relationship over the years I grew up. My mother moved to Kyoto when she knew I was independent and capable of taking care of myself, she left Tokyo," she said quietly. "I'm sorry…I didn't know about your family."

"No, it's fine. I was going to offhandedly tell you anyway. You gotta know my parents' status because it's basic knowledge," he said. "My grandparents will catch this whole scheme if you didn't know. That's the whole reason why my brother came up with this idea."

"The me-being-your-wife-idea?"

"That's right, I never completely explained it to you, huh? It mainly stems from my parents' divorce," he said, sipping from his soft drink. "Ever since my grandparents, mainly my grandma, has been pestering me with my love life. Commenting on other girl celebrities I should date, commenting how my old girlfriends didn't meet her expectations. All of that. I know she's doing what she thinks is best for me, but she gets way out of hand…that it's scary."

She smiled, "Seems like fun."

"Ha ha," he laughed weakly, this woman really didn't know what she was getting herself into. "Now that I've gotten that out of the way. Back to you..I heard you played soccer when you were younger?"

"From Tai, I'm guessing," she said. "Yeah, I did. Until my mother made me play tennis instead. Something about me being too much of a tomboy."

"I wouldn't expect you were one, by the way you dress and all. Maybe besides the fact that you don't wear much make up," he said. "You got the natural look goin' on."

It was her turn to laugh out loud, "I actually hate make-up. But…I can't resist putting some on. How bout you…besides the whole rock-star image you got going on, what sports were you good at?"

"Hmm," he thought, finger on his chin as he thought of how to tackle the question. "I used to think I was pretty good at basketball. Until, one day, my father took us to Odaiba Park. There was a court there, so I played one-on-one against my brother. He slaughtered me on the court. Only seven at that time, and he completely demolished me. Ever since I've been hesitant to play. Guess I'm still scarred of being beaten by my own brother who was three years younger."

"That would be pretty embarrassing. Or you must have really sucked at the sport," she sneered. He threw a French-fry at her. "He's actually gifted at the sport. If he wasn't a novelist…he would have easily got himself a place in one of our Japanese Basketball teams – and I'm not boasting."

"I didn't say you were. You're just proud of him," she said.

"Can't help it," he accepted.

She opened his photo album in front of him, pausing at a random page and pointing at the younger replica of himself. "He…he resembles Takeru Takaishi a lot. Since you said your sibling was a novelist…I can't help but help…is he-"

"Yeah, he is," Yamato answered straightaway, feeling amused when he noticed her jaw drop. "I took up my father's surname, my brother took up my mother's maiden one. That's why we got different surnames."

"I love his work…he's so good! You've got to introduce me to him! Can you ask him to give me his autography…he write so magnificently and beautifully, how he described-"

"I know his capabilities. And I also know the definition of a fanatic. Don't worry, you'll have an opportunity to see him. You are his sister-in-law, after all," he said sarcastically, expecting her to stop hyperventilating.

"Oh my god, I'm his sister-in-law!" she exclaimed excitedly, then she laughed at Yamato bewildered expression. "I was just playing."

"I hope so…because that was pretty freaky. Sorta reminded me of this stalker that used to trail me everywhere I went-"

Under thee table, Her heel dug onto his foot. He raised his palms, waving them in front of her face in defeat. Yamato scowled. Her phone buzzed. He laughed when he registered that her ring tone was _Blue Moon_. She answered, "Sora speaking. Oh, yes. Hi Andrea. Yes. My…I'm sorry, I didn't know! I'll catch a cab ASAP. Okay, bye." Then she hung up.

He tapped his fingers against the table's surface, waiting for her to say that she was going to leave. He assumed correct. "Anyway, Matthew. I hope you enjoyed your meal. I've got to go now. If you need me…just ring me up on my mobile phone or page me. I'm really behind with my work."

"Sure."

"Here," she slid the photoalbum towards his direction. "Thanks for it. When I went through your album…I found a couple of pictures of your band. I never realized how young all of you boys were when you started the _Teen-Age Wolves_. Good luck with your compositions. I'm sure you'll do well. See you soon."

"Bye," he said. Unexpectedly, he felt the hazy rosy scent fall over him once again. Her lips softly touched his forehead, and then the feeling was instantly gone. "See ya, hubby," she beamed and friskily left the restaurant.

He continued to eat his meal alone with nothing but his photoalbum to accompany his solitary figure. 'So much for other choices asides from intimacy,' he thought to himself. As he chewed on the rest of burger, he flicked through the fragments of his life.

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Yamato wasn't too sure what Sora was doing that was keeping her occupied the continuous days later nor did he even have time to think about it. He, also, found himself busy. He was used to being busy all the time, but sometimes even a celebrity couldn't handle this much. It was like he was going through a burn out. Even so, he kept his head high and ploughed on like he always did.

Due to their late release on the latest album (anticipated by how they still were trying to come up with a new band name and accumulation of putting together their combined songs, which Yamato had failed to do yet), the band encountered having to attend several interviews regarding the case. Yamato's main concern was his manager. Ever since he hadn't turned up the other day, Kanji had been clawing on his back whenever he had the opportunity.

Yamato struggled immensely with the new track he would have to produce as soon as possible. And when he had gotten the song done, after a couple of hard days work…it backfired and Kanji was the least satisfied with his work. According to Kanji his work was '…_rubbish_! Absolute rubbish. Do it again! What is wrong with you, Yamato? You can do much better than this lame excuse of music! So you can play the piano…I don't care! This is not even close to our style of music."

That afternoon, Yamato wasn't so sure he could handle his manager at the moment. His blood was beginning to boil. He was so aggravated with how all Kanji did was criticize everything about what he did in the song. He couldn't please everyone. In fact, the piece he had produced was probably his best fresh composition for a long time. Had Kanji been there to witness his hard labour? No. Had Kanji noticed all the different instruments besides his peddling of the piano keys that were incorporated into the tune? No. Had Kanji seen how hard and time consuming it took to cast the final draft for the lyrics of his song? No. So what right did his manager have to literally call his music _trash.._

"Well, you did instruct us to fricken' choose and play a different style if I do recall you saying that!" the blond headed man snarled, trying to not make his tone bitter but was failing at the attempt.

"I did not tell you to change the band's genre altogether, did I?" Kanji dangerously replied. "Can you even picture Yutaka drumming to that slow piece of shi-"

"Hey, hey," the drummer intervened. For the first time, even Yutaka knew that their manager was taking it a bit to far. Sure, Yutaka argued with Yamato a lot, but Kanji was going way out of line. "You never said that we were going to play each other's songs. Yamato can do that acoustically solo if he wishes. So what if it's a different genre. It's jazz..big deal? It's the fans choice in the end…and I have a feeling our fan base will cheer for us wherever we go."

"And that's the type of attitude that will lead us to being bankrupt!" Kanji spluttered. "You can't be overconfident in this business, you should all know that by now. It's rocky…the music industry is never steady, it's always changing!"

"You can hope, right?" Takahashi said pensively.

Kanji heaved, as if ignoring all the other members' views and directed his attention back the lead singer. "You're the lead singer. I expect a better composition in two days. If it isn't done by then...God help us."

They exited their private studio with Akira disappearing in a flash. Yamato sauntered behind Yutaka and Takahashi as they walked down the flight of stairs. "Get a move on, Yamato."

"My, my, my Yutaka," Takahashi remarked, grinning.

"What the fuck is up your arse?" he growled.

"You stuck up for Yamato. There's a first for everything, ey?" he nudged him. Yamato couldn't help but smile.

"Whatever," Yutaka denied, quickly speeding to the parking lot once the three of them were out of the building. Takahashi waited for Yamato be at his pace and offered him a cigarette, "In a mood for some stress repellent. It's the number one cure in Tokyo."

Yamato accepted it, letting the guitarist light it up. He inhaled it with pleasure.

"Yes, you must be really stressed out. You usually refuse cigs, claiming that they'll ruin your voice and all that shit. Wanna talk about it?"

"You know why I'm peed off…no reason to repeat something you already know. Kanji is really pissing me off lately," Yamato sighed.

"Don't let him get up your arse," Takahashi repeated one of Yutaka's favourite sayings. He pulled a cigarette packet out of his pocket and placed it into the palm of Yamato's hand. "Keep it. I can buy another."

Takahashi kept his silence as acceptance and parted ways from him. About half an hour later, Yamato was just about home and tired. He exchanged shoulders for his strap (carrying his guitar) to go around and marched up the stairs. Once he had reached his level, he made his way to his number. He paused, could have sworn he heard his name being called. It wouldn't be Taichi because he had moved out of his apartment once he had made amends with his currently new 'fiancé.' He exhaled thee waste from his mouth, then inhaled the cigarette again.

He unlocked the door and his heart felt like it leapt out of his throat. At that moment, an old man with a balding head and grey beard was facing him with a scowl that looked identical to his when he wanted to condemn something or someone. "You're smoking, Yamato," the man's strong booming voice said with evident disparagement.

"Grandpa?" he blinked, searching for other words to say.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY! STEP ASIDE!" He then felt an elder woman lunge at him. His grandmother's arms squeezing the living daylights out of him into a tight embrace and planted kisses on each of his cheeks.

"You're here early…both of you are!" Yamato said, still feeling quite astounded. Then spoke softly to himself under his breath, "You're both here a bit too early. They were meant to come that Friday evening. It was still only Wednesday afternoon. "How'd you get into my house without the keys?"

Then he spotted TK. Behind his grandparents stood his brother staring back at him fending off an apology. He was obviously the person who had let his grandparents into his apartment. The darn idiot could have at least given him a call…or any sign or warning that their grandparents had arrived at Japan. He couldn't wait to ring his neck.

His grandmother let go of him and peaked over his shoulders, as if waiting for someone to pop out of thin air and deflected his question. "So…where is she?" She was on her tiptoes now, her focus was now darting at the surroundings behind him.

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_mobile phone: cell phone_

_Asahi: Japanese beverage _

_Song used: Windmills Of Your Mind by Sting (I recommend you to try and get the Montreal Club version because it sounds way better. Even though I usually hate remakes…I found this remake a really good listen)._

**And so the plot kicks in. Finally. (Not that I'm completely happy with this chapter). I guess that this is the turning point of the story, it'll get more heated up from here. There's still so much to be said and done…so don't think this is the end. So thanks to everyone who has been still hanging on to this story regardless of my _very_**** slowww updates. Take care dears. It's 1:58am…I'm going to sleep now.**

**Flipstahhz**

**Ps. please avoid grammatical errors. I know they're there...I just don't have the time to fix them up. I would if I could. **


	10. Chapter Ten

Written o6.11.o7

**This chapter should have been up earlier. What happened was…I wasn't content with what was in it…so it took me ages to come with a solution to fix it, and it finally came about a week ago. Sorry for the long wait. **

**THANKS TO… **_Yamora Love n Friendship, crest of music, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, Waltz Turner, jerseygrl90, SpiffyCookie, nickygirl, TheWitchLady, scorpion05 and Ka-Yu Camui _**for reviewing!**

_This story has finally got two digets. YAY! HAHA. Hope you enjoy this chapter._

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Ten**

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"**Enough that he** doesn't wish to tell us that he's married, now he's hiding his own wife from us!" she cried aloud her complaint to his grandfather, Michel. Letting his grandmother go on one of her tantrums, Yamato abruptly pushed his brother into the nearest room, dragging him roughly by the collar. He shut the door behind them, securing their privacy and let a hiss of desperation disperse in agitation.

"Why? Tell me _why_, _TK_, did you have to bring _them _to my apartment? Has your common sense gone completely out the window?" In response, TK pushed him away to attain his personal space back. He sauntered backwards and let himself fall back first onto Yamato's bed, lounging with his feet into the air. The older sibling tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for a proper acceptable explanation.

TK withdrew a sigh. "I picked them up from the airport after that fundraising basketball game. They claimed that the flight that they were meant to catch two days in advance was cancelled. So they took this opportunity and excuse to come to Japan super early." He rambled on, "I think it was more grandma's idea than grandpa's. She's the one that is clearly more intoxicated with our love lives than grandpa is. It's always been like this with her. This was bound to happen…"

"I was simply asking," Yamato huffed lividly, "_why_ did you have to bring them to my apartment straight away? Couldn't you have at least brought them to your place before bombarding me so unexpectedly! You could have at least given me a heads up on their arrival!"

"Hey, don't fricken' raise your voice! They're not deaf, you know?" TK muttered not fazed, taking Yamato's attitude swings with normalcy. "It wasn't my fault. They literally insisted to see you and Sora. Especially Sora, since they haven't seen her before and…because they've met Kari already."

"You gotta get them out of here! Can't you see I'm unprepared?" he spoke rhetorically. "God…they're here…I haven't' even finished the song yet. Kanji's going to kill me!"

"Breathe in and out, Matt," his brother instructed with glimpses of humour intertwining within his tone at the strange situation. "Relax…and think about how we're going to tackle this problem."

"Sometimes you can be too relaxed in the most inappropriate times," Yamato shook his head as he stood over TK who was comfortably smiling wryly up at him. "On the other hand, I really need to get Sora's things moved here. Tell me…have they been in any other room besides the lounge and kitchen…and how long have they been here?"

"We only just got here a few minutes before you," he answered back. "They haven't been anywhere else besides the lounge and kitchen."

"That's fantastic," Yamato said. He was glad that he had done a bit of tidying up the day before. If it were as messy as it had been earlier they would be suspicious to why the assumingly two occupants of the house hadn't bothered to clean up. If his grandparents had seen his bedroom or bathroom, they would have immediately figured out that the only person dwelling at the apartment was himself. There was not a single sign of female dominance anywhere within his residence. "But right now…I can't deal with them. I need to get Sora moved in here."

"You need a proper excuse."

"And you've got enough space for them at your apartment or are they staying over at ma's house?" Yamato questioned.

"I thought they were staying over at your house," TK interjected.

"No way in hell do I want _them _living with me! Remember last time? Grandma was going through everything I owned – even my underwear draw! You said last time that you would take them in after their stay here," he growled. Pulling out the pack of cigarettes that Takahashi had given him, he stuffed one in his mouth and lit it. "Sorry, Teeks. I can't believe we're arguing over this…it's been a while since we've seen them and we're acting like terrible grandchildren-"

"It was your idea to drag me into your room," TK replied matter-of-factly. "By the way, Gramps won't be too happy seeing you smoking. I'd chuck that if I were you." Their grandfather had a strong grudge against smokers, even though he had hypocritically been one when he was younger. He had also disapproved of Yamato and TK's father when he found out that his daughter's boyfriend/husband-at-that-time was a smoker. Yamato exhaled and didn't bother to fight back when TK had snatched it out of his hands, stepped on it and threw it (as well as the packet) into the bin.

"But I'll be a good brother and let them stay at my house while you get everything prepared with Sora moving in," TK shrugged as if it wasn't anything.

"It was your fault that I'm in this situation on the first place!" Yamato exclaimed. TK sniggered, "So you want me to agree with grandma that you're gay? Not that I find anything wrong with that-" To silence him, Yamato had thrown a pillow at his face. TK recovered his composure and spoke up again, "Then let's get this started. They're probably wondering what we're doing, staying in your room like we're hiding something from them-"

"-which we are," Yamato continued. "Now…we really need to get them out of here. Think of an excuse. Right now they are in good terms with you because at least you've told them about your engagment, whereas I took the part of the evil-grandkid and hid my wife from them."

"You could just say that you got drunk one night and decided to get married. Or that you were a virgin and wanted to have sex, which was why you hastily got married and also avoided telling our parents."

Yamato quirked an eyebrow, watching his brother chuckle at his own joke. "Nice try. But from that explanation, I can picture both of them fuming. Anyway, let's-"

"-go," TK ended.

As a result from the talk with their grandparents, their grandma was (yet again) greatly offended. Their grandfather seemed to have a thorough understanding of the situation considering (he deemed proudly) that his grandson was a talented and _famous_ musician of their time. Somehow TK had managed to do his work gallantly, pulling off his infamous typical sweet talk, charisma and suaveness that won over their grandmother to finally believe that Yamato's wife was at work and he wasn't hiding from them. On top of that he also mentioned that he had something due for his band. In other words TK just was his charming self that didn't need to argue with them to get his grandparents to leave.

TK always held that alluring personality that could make anyone fall of his or her feet, his special quality that Yamato always envied.

This always worked him favours, especially with his parents who could never tell him off during their teenage years. In other words TK wasn't as innocent as everybody made him out to be. His friendly persuasion was purely an act. Misjudge him too late, or you were under his charming curse. Of course, it hadn't worked with Hikari since they had been best friends since childhood – so TK had to take more than 'persuasion' to get her to actually believe his feelings. But that was entirely a whole different story altogether.

Yamato bid them goodbyes as they departed. With a 'Don't work too much, you'll turn out like your father,' they were gone from sight. That was when he panicked. He paced up and down his apartment, wondering where to start. He first checked his wedding finger, at least he had the ring on.

Next he grabbed his mobile phone and instantaneously dialed Sora and was greeted with a _'Hey there! This is Sora. Sorry, but I'm not able to make this call. Please leave your name after the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.'_ He left a message, something close to: '_Pick up the darn phone or I'll kill you!_'

After the numerous times he attempted to call her, he was always greeted with the endless answering machine.

He had resorted to calling her home phone as well, but even that wasn't any sign of progress. It was a fricken' emergency. And it had to be _now_ that she was not able to answer her phone, he thought. Sora had warned him that she would be busy for the following days, but he never even knew what it really was that occupied her time so greatly. He never understood what had caused her to be _this_ busy.

Knowing that she'd get back to him eventually, he decided to tidy up. He opened the curtains to every room, allowing the warming late afternoon light trickle into his apartment. It was funny how often he'd forgotten what a great view he had of his city, which had been the whole point to why he had chosen his apartment's location. He tended to vacuuming, dusting, sweeping, fixing, mopping, wiping and did practically everything that was the synonym related to any form of cleaning.

At last, he knew he would have to confront his own bedroom. He scratched the back of his head, wondering what to do with it. He definitely needed to look as if both people were living in the same room. He needed a way to make the room have a feminine touch to it. He scratched his head, wondering where in the world to begin such a transformation.

To his own demise, he ended taking off his beloved band posters off from the wall. He decided to bring a few of his CD racks to his music room for more space. He gazed at his room again. This time it looked too plain, with its dull white walls that once had the posters that livened it up. Perhaps he'd wait for Sora to give her advice on the matter. But he definitely needed to do something about his single bed. He needed something that would appear large enough to fit two bodies. Pondering what to do next, his mobile phone buzzed. Immediately he picked up, pleased that it was her on the other line.

"I'm _so_ sorry, I was in this endless meeting and they wouldn't let me go," she said in a flustered voice. "I should be okay now. Everything at work's settled and they should let me have probably a week off since I reckon I've earned it. I can meet up with you tomorrow, since you sounded pretty urgent-"

"Now would be fine. It's urgent," he muttered. "Very urgent. You need to move in."

"Why?" she questioned without thinking. There was a few seconds silence and then he didn't need to see her to know from her facial expression that she clicked one and two together. In aghast she spluttered, "They're here already? Your grandparents are in Japan right now?"

"Yeah. I think I inherited my unpredictability from them. Have you got a pen? Jot down this…" Yamato recited his address. "We need my apartment to be redecorated. Bring whatever you think will influence its appearance. Also, I advice you bring some of your wardrobe and personal belongings over too. Looks like we're going to be here all night."

"Okay," she replied. Through the pause he could here her scribbling down notes. "I'll see you in about an hour."

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There was knock on the door. He peered through the peephole, making sure it was her. That night she appeared very professional with her long auburn hair plaited back into a French-braid, being clad in a white button up shirt, gray suit jacket and a matching skirt, her long slender legs were tightly covered in stockings as her feet clunked heavily on the varnished wooden floor from her heels. From the height of her heels, it was understandable that her gait limped on one side - clearly being an indication that she had been wearing them all day. She easily pulled off the professional image, but there was way for her to hide the disheveled exhaustion and her flustered movements.

He opened the door before she got the chance to knock again. "Hey," she smiled. "Hey to you too," he winked. "You look pretty business-like today." She laughed, "I didn't get to change since you were so persistent that I got here ASAP."

"Sorry," he apologized. He still speculated to why she still was agreeing to this obscene plan.

"Don't worry about it," she said. She then nodded her head in direction to the large suitcase on the ground next to her. "Help me take this in." As he pulled her heavy luggage into the foyer, she invited herself in. First she did was unbraid her auburn hair, causing her wavy tresses to fall down. She then unbuttoned her take blazer and put it on the coathanger by the door.

Sora strode into his apartment for the first time with curiosity, intrigued eyes dancing as she appreciated her new surrounding. Her arms were folded now, Yamato picking up that he had reached a conclusion to label his apartment from the first look.

"So…?" he couldn't help but ask.

She turned around to assess him, a wry smile taking over her lips. Shrugging, she sat on one of the stools besides the kitchen bench. "Well…it's not as big as I contended it to be."

"You expected it to be bigger?" he asked. Everyone that went to his apartment post his singing career always assumed so too. Somehow, he thought that Sora's reaction would be a little bit different. "I know it isn't really a mansion."

"No…I sort of expected your apartment to be something like this."

He stared at her in question to clarify herself. "What I meant is that…beyond all this glamour and the more I've gotten to know you - you're a simple guy. Regardless your high status and being with you, I've noticed that you're not a holistic snub as I presumed you to be."

"Gee, thanks," he said. She ignored him and continued. "I guess you're seizing normality. Therefore seeing you in this not-so-big apartment isn't really surprising to the system. Actually, I wouldn't find any other place that would suit you. This is you."

"Thanks," he said, this time with sincerity. He hadn't encountered such an explanation. Was it possible for someone to read him so accurately from just a small time they have been acquainted with each other? "What should I do to improve it then?"

"Definitely some feminism," she laughed. She hopped down from the stool and unzipped the suitcase that he had dutifully brought in. Inside the large briefcase was half with clothing with the other half being miscellaneous objects. She pulled out a transparent bottle of air freshener, "I think we need to start with getting rid of your manly stench." She caught the expression on his face. "Not that you smell bad or anything."

"So I smell good then?" he said slyly. She wasn't one to dish out compliments so freely.

"Your cologne is pleasant…can't say that about your home. It's not BO or anything…nothing close to Tai's old soccer-socks smell. Just doesn't have the same scent a lady would have," she smiled. Spraying a few whiffs in random areas. The aroma was of roses…her distinct smell. Even though she had said orchards were her favourite flowers, her fragrance was always of roses.

When she had run back and forth his home spraying the scent, she came back puffed. Yamato had watched her in entertainment. It was an interesting watch seeing her run about still wearing her 'business-like' outfit. Her eyes were wide as she huffed in irregularly. Her hands had fallen on her knees as she bended over to regain some air into her lungs. The next thing she did was pull out some flowers and vases. She hurriedly placed them in the dining room, kitchen and then she looked up at him, "You still haven't shown me our room."

It sounded strange how she was speaking as if his bedroom was hers already. Not that it was a bad thing…because it would be a worry if he had to correct her a lot especially with it being rather nerve-racking that his grandparents were only half an hour away from the apartment. He hand gestured her to follow him to the hallway. She was looking around at the photography pieces displayed on the wall. "You had quite a lot of fans even back-in-the-days, huh? It was a picture a bird's-eye angle of a hall cramped with people in Odaiba-high uniforms. There were a couple of girls in the front with signs such as "I LOVE YOU YAMATO!" to "MARRY ME!" He paused, staring at it as well. It had been a while since he had looked at it. Jun was there too, beaming like an idiot. It was perfect blackmail, actually. He chuckled.

"I only have it up as an inspiration – not a brag. It's good to see that our music influenced a lot of people back then as well. I guess it just gives me motivation whenever I see it."

"Did you take it?"

"No…actually, Kari did. That was my 18th birthday present from her," he said. "Sort of bet TK and Tai's combined present of a g-string."

She edged closer towards the corner of the photograph and nodded, "That's right. That would be Kari's...she even used the same signature that she uses today. She's taken so many amazing shots for me too." Her eye diverted to any other photos on his walls.

"Uh, there's another one that Kari took…over here," he pointed at the other photo on his left side. It was a blown-up picture of two lively-looking teenage boys – the boy with brown hair appeared as if he was laughing too hard by the way he was clutching his stomach, the other was of a boy with blond hair who had a arm around his friend for support. He was also laughing hysterically.

"Tai and you?" she simpered at the sight. "What were you laughing at?"

"The time all three of us, including Kari, pulled a prank on TK. It was April Fool's day and we all chipped in. He was always thinking he was all high and mighty because he had was team captain…so we put superglue on his basketball since he always brought that basketball wherever he went."

"No, you didn't…"   "Oh, yes we did," Yamato chuckled. He pointed at the blurred background at a specific person. "It's too bad that Kari didn't capture his furious expression as well. I swear, he was going to skin us alive."

"How did you have to get it off?"

"Surgically," Yamato laughed harder. "We had no hopes of getting it off because it was too hard. Even though all three of us got the biggest scolding of our lives, it was worth it in the end."

"How terrible."

"You're just saying that because you like his novels. If you meet him in person, he is quite cheeky and can do you in," Yamato said. "Anyway, you wanted to see our room…right?"

Once they had entered the room, she gazed around observantly. "Just needs splashes of colour. Perhaps we should go to a furniture store tomorrow…buy something to give some spice. It's too plain for my liking. Maybe we can purchase some mats, right Matt?"

"Ha ha," he responded sarcastically, accustomed to the lame joke. Rolling his eyes he spoke, "At least you're not calling me Matthew."

"We are not in public, that's why I'm calling you Matt. Unless you prefer Yamato?"

"Either's fine."

"How bout in front of your grandparents?" she said thoughtfully. "How about Matty, hubby, pops, matty-poo, my man…"

"Stop…you're making me barf," he said, shaking his head. "Just Matt. Matt's fine. Don't even think about calling me pops…that's just really wrong."

"Add a broader bed to our furniture list too," she muttered. He wasn't sure if she had been listening because she now was currently focusing on taking blank photo frames out and placing them onto his bed. He sat on the mattress and took one of the photo frames into his hands. "What are these for?"

"If we want to look like a couple…we need at least some photos together pre-wedding. We'll have pretend that our wedding pictures are still being developed if they ask for them," she said. Without warning, he felt the weight of her arm fall over his shoulder and snapped a photo. "There we go, one out of the way!"

"Hey, I wasn't even ready for that!" he exclaimed. For the next hour, they had to change into a mixture of attires to suit each photo. Even if it was still at varying places of his house, it was better off that way because it seemed as if the photos had been taken on different days.

By the time every photo frame was filled with a image of them, he knew it was time to retire. The tall hand was almost reaching twelve when she began to pack her suitcase. "You're leaving?" he asked.

"Well, everything's pretty much been done. I can meet you tomorrow morning-"

"It's night time, Sora," he said seriously. He tried to conceal his concern, "I can't let you go out in the streets this late."

"I'll call a cab."

"Really, it's no hassle. I have more than enough space in my house. You can sleepover," he said offhandedly.

She raised an eyebrow. He sighed, connecting the dots of her odd reaction. "Not that way. I wouldn't do that to you. I've got a spare guest room."

"Good," she said, laughing the awkwardness away. "You wouldn't have a spare set of pjs or anything? A large shirt would be fine…I've got a pair of short shorts in my suitcase-"

He rummaged through his wardrobe and tossed her a clean oversized shirt that would probably go to her knees. "Is that okay?"

"Perfect," she said tersely. "Bathroom?"

"Down the end of the hallway and then turn right. I've probably got a spare toothbrush on the second drawer besides the basin if you wanted to use it, go ahead," he informed her.

"Thank Matt."

"I should be thanking you. It's the least I could do…for you actually accepting this crazed plan," he said. She gave one of her contagious smiles and left his room with her suitcase dragging behind her.

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He yawned, stretching in his bed. He checked his mobile phone to be aware of the time but at the same time noticed there were at least 7 missed calls. It was ten o'clock in the morning.

"…_still sleeping - what do you expect, it's Matt! – too bad Kari had work today...she works at that kindergarten near the park…"_

That was when he sat up straight. Exasperation chocked his throat. The mixture of voices intertwined together and he knew that it wasn't a good sign. His grandparents were here…_Sora! _He immediately stumbled out of his bed and jerked into the dining room. There were his grandparents, TK and Sora looking at him. He let out a sigh of relief when he noticed that Sora had changed from the old shirt that he had lent her for the night. At least that was alright.

"You know," his grandmother's lips were pursed. "Besides not even greeting us a proper morning and rousing up late…it would do us some good if you at _least_ put a descent pair of pants on."

He looked down, realizing he was still wearing his boxers from the previous night. He groaned. TK looked as if he was biting his tongue to hold in his guffawing. His grandpa equally had the same expression that his brother had. Whereas Sora simply gave him a wink. How embarrassing.

He despised being a heavy sleeper…

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**Again, not satisfied with this chapter. But I'm hard to please anyway. I'm just glad to say that this chapter was better content wise in comparison with what I was about to put in it (which would have made this story drag and drag…though this story is already dragging. Haha). It was meant to be longer…but I decided to stop it here because I didn't think I could handle any more 'fixing this chapter' up. I was also meant to have the whole 'breakfast' with the grandparents in this chapter as well…but I thought it was better to save it for the next. **

**Reasons for not updating? All on my profile page. I'm surprised I actually updated since I've got my exams next week. (kill me). **

Thanks for reading so far. It really means a lot to me. You're support is fantastic!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Written 25.o1.o8

_Waltz Turner, nickygirl, KoumiLoccness, the-lioness, ickle kat, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, SpiffyCookie, Yamora Love n Friendship, Sonora, blue9989, Mrs.Ishida-to-you, TheWitchLady, Kaze-kun and Jillianna…__**thank-you**_ ;D

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Eleven**

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**He stared awkwardly **at the morning scene. This was definitely something he hadn't pictured. After shrugging on a clean shirt, he had joined his grandparents, Takeru and Sora at the dining table. He sent a demising glare at his brother's direction, who simply mouthed, '_I did ring you,_' from the chair next to him. On Yamato's other side was Sora, whereas (unfortunately for them) his grandparents were seated the opposite end, hawking on their every little move. Just when he would grab for the butter for his toast, he could feel tension building within him right after his grandmother would snap about the concentration of lipids within the spread. After that he became fully aware of what he could and couldn't do for his own breakfast.

When Sora spoke with Takeru, Yamato was sure glad. This was because it guided his grandparents to observe their conversation while he took the opportunity to add a couple teaspoons of sugar into his coffee. Also, anything that took their leering eyes' attention was good enough for him. As he stirred his coffee, he picked up on what his brother and wife were talking about.

"…at a train station when the thought came."

"I never thought you'd get the inspiration from that _spectacular_ book at a train station," she marveled. Her hands were clasped together and she was looking at his brother with admiration and respect.

"Trust me…that's what occurs to you when you're train has the common timetable of arriving late."

Yamato yawned as he watched Takeru's bored expression beforehand change in interest. Whenever someone spoke of his works his brother's reaction would always change. Not in an obnoxious way, but in a satisfied mien. He had heard these speeches from his brother so many times that it bored him.

Unfortunately, the yawn drew in attention from his grandmother and she soon began to assault him with listless questions. "So why did you get married? I heard even your parents didn't know. Have you prepared for the _other_ room?"

"Huh?" Yamato said rather puzzled. "What other room are you talking about?"

"You know!" she argued. "There has to be some reason why you got so married so quickly. So…" his grandmother pointed Sora's stomach. "Is that going to be a boy or girl?"

Yamato almost squirted the coffee from his mouth, but didn't manage to stop it from all coming out as some drops trickled down the corners of his mouth. Sora handed him a serviette, looking equally astounded at how direct his grandmother had been. Takeru closed his eyes, presumably trying to preserve the memory and his grandfather just looked calmly around. Obviously the talk of Takeru being a novelist was down the drain since Sora was part of this conversation as well.

She chucked her head back, auburn dresses flouncing up and down as she laughed at the statement. "No, I'm not pregnant," she calmed down, smoothing out the large shirt that draped over her slim figure. He realised that it was the shirt that he had lent her that night. Sora continued, "That's not the reason why I married your grandson."

"Really?" his grandmother's eyebrows were raised now. "You're not in for the glamour, riches and fame?"

Taking his cue, Yamato rested his arm over her shoulder, showing off his fake wedding ring in the process. "I wouldn't have married her if she wanted that. We just-"

"…didn't want a big wedding," Sora concluded for him, staring lovingly at him. He picked up on the fake pseudo stare, and he exchanged it with his own.

"Oh, dear," his grandmother pressed. "That's so lovely. Isn't it lovely, Michel? Remember when we were young?"

Yamato's grandfather chuckled, eyes sparking. "How could I forget?" His grandfather beamed. "I'm proud with you, Yamato. Isn't it pride wrenching watching having your brother get a girlfriend before you?"

"Thanks, grandpa," he grumbled as he could just make out Takeru snicker.

His grandfather didn't speak as much as his grandmother, but whenever he said something it would either side with quirky or serious. "You've finally settled down with a woman. You know, Sora…" his grandfather captured Sora's nod and he kept speaking, "It's good you came into his life. I never saw him fancy any one other than his guitar. I was sure he was going to marry that instrument instead. Thanks for making my grandson normal."

"My pleasure," she said, smile wide.

"But you rushed into things…without even telling us, Yamato," she said crossly. "I'm scared it will happen again."

Sora questioned, "What do you mean?"

Takeru and Yamato wriggled on his seat, already knowing what she was about to say.

"It was the same with their parents, Sora," her tongue clicked. "They married young…and then _catastrophe_! They divorced only eight years after their marriage. That's why I'm worried about the both of you already…"

"Why? What's wrong about me being with Sora?" Yamato perked up.

"You think we didn't see that when we came this morning?" his grandmother said, as if expecting them to straight away acknowledge what she was thinking. Hell, Yamato always had trouble whenever it came to what _any_ female was thinking. "What's wrong?" Sora asked. Then again, he was glad when Sora didn't know as well.

"Well, for instance," his grandmother was always melodramatic about everything. Her hands were now waving in the air to convey her point. "For instance it's a bad sign that you, Yamato, are sleeping in your own room while you are making Sora stay in the guest room."

"That's because we're still in the process of ordering a bigger bed for our room," Sora said. Yamato let out a raspy sigh of relief with the believable answer. Unfortunately, his grandmother wasn't persuaded that easily.

"No offense, honey. But that's already an indication of a relationship struggle, I know. If I were you, I'd take charge!" the older woman exclaimed. "I wouldn't even agree to marry him if he didn't have a bigger bed! That should always be on the top of your priorities first!"

"Why would you need a bigger bed?" Takeru asked naively. He had stopped munching on his cornflakes, looking at their faces then paled a deathly white pigment as he clicked two and two together. He let his head fall down over his cereal bowl and murmur, "Oh…_that_. Pretend I didn't ask. Forgive me if I barf right now."

This time Takeru couldn't help but intervene. "What has no groceries got to do with this?"

"Can we _not_ talk about that?" Yamato hissed. Both he and his wife had the opposite reaction to Takeru. Whereas he was paling, they both had lush scarlet burning cheeks.

"I'm simply telling the truth," his grandmother protested, nose in the air.

Michel smartly took charge of the conversation from there. "So how did the both of you meet?"

Just as either Sora or Yamato came up with a good explanation excuse, the grandmother answered the question for them. "Oh, Michel…don't you ever keep up with the tabloids and magazines? It's even in France!"

The newly wed couple stared at each other, not sure what topic they were talking about now and how it was even related to them in the first place. Takeru appeared out of the loop as well.

When their grandfather admitted to being as clueless as they were, his grandmother spoke again, "They met at one of Sora's functions off course! I can't believe you forgot she's one of the new and rising international fashion designers. _Soar for the Sky Designs_, right?"

"Right," she agreed, looking nimbly at Yamato who was now avoiding her eye contact.

"You serious?" Takeru blurted out, he stared at the pair. "How come I've never heard of this?"

"I didn't even know either-"

His grandmother cut off Yamato again. "It's because her designs became famous at France first. They've only been released in Japan a couple of days ago. The main office is in Tokyo at-"

The musician drowned the words out. Somehow he felt furious and hurt at the same time. It seemed his grandmother knew more about Sora and he did. It was understandable that his grandmother knew about this considering she was always updated with the latest gossip and was a fashion guru…but _still_. Why hadn't Sora told him? Maybe this was her attention all along…to become famous (design wise) by marrying him. It was for the popularity. He cursed himself. He should have known. It all made sense now. He should have picked up on the signs earlier. Like the previous times she had unconsciously fixed up his tie or collar…or when he was curious to why she had a number of men's clothing in her wardrobe.

The rest of the breakfast continued with his grandmother babbling on until Takeru said that they would leave considering Yamato still had to get back to work on his music. As they left, Takeru took his older brother aside. He said placidly, "Sora. Did you know that about her?"

"No," he replied bluntly.

"Oh," Takeru said. Figuring out that it was best not to ask any more questions, he kissed Sora on the cheek right after their grandparents had tackled her with warm embraces.

"That was interesting," Sora commented once the trio had left Yamato's apartment. She was currently piling the dishes up and heading towards the kitchen. She called over her back, "Take the others, will you?"

He nodded quietly at her command, gathering the remainder plates and marched after her, placing them carefully into the sink. He stood there as and watched her tap her food. "Your jaw is tense," she said. Her arms were folded now and giving him dubious looks in contemplation. "You've been strange since mid breakfast. What's wrong?"

He ignored her scrutiny and went straight to the point. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

From the look in her eyes, he knew that she was aware what he was referring to. She was flustered now, there was a tinge of pink on her cheeks. She dropped her hands behind her back and said. "I thought it wasn't a big deal."

"A big deal?" he repeated incredulously. "Off course it would be a _big_ deal!"

"Aren't you overreacting? I really thought you knew that I was fashion designer. I don't want to gloat it when I assumed you already knew!"

"Assume?" he laughed bitterly. "How could I _assume_ when I had no idea? That's what I don't get about you. You always have this mysterious thing going on…and you never tell me anything. You're so secretive."

"Don't be so hypocritical," she counter-attacked. "I practically have to get you to open up to me. I'm making an effort. I'm _trying_, Yamato."

"I chose you to be my fake wife because you were a girl that no one knew about. You were a girl that wouldn't cause controversy. This complicates everything. Did you want everyone to know that you were with a famous lead singer? Is that your reason behind it? With the addition of getting an extra five thousand in cash? I had the impression that you wouldn't be like the others…"

"_Yamato_," she stressed his name for the second time. "I swear that I really thought you knew what I was. I didn't want your fricken' publicity for my own personal gain…I already had a signed contract before we even met."

"Really?" he sneered.

"Ah…you don't believe me," she sighed. Before he got his opportunity to remark back she interfered. "Relax. Take a seat and I'll tell you the honest truth since abbreviated my words when I told you I'd accept being your _fake_ wife."

He took a deep breath, but did what she told, hopping up onto the surface of the kitchen's bench. She stalled a bit, pouring two glasses of water and handing one to him.

"The reason why I agreed so easily to your strange proposal was because it was something…_new_. I know, that sounds strange. I just wanted to relax and have a go at something. You see, I never really dated during high school because I was so consumed with stuff like getting accepted to the best design school, studying and even looking after my mother's florist that I never really had the time to do anything for myself. Mimi's always told me to try something new…"

"So you thought this would be fun?" he asked. She really had a different definition of fun.

"Different," she corrected. "I wanted something different. A break, perhaps? And when you just asked me…I couldn't reject it. Somehow you interest me. No, not in a love-at-first-sight way…but there's just something about me?"

"Well, didn't you already stereotype that I was the typical rock musician?" he said.

"Sort of. But still…your personality was really captivating. How you'd come in the café on rainy days, random occasions and order a damn orange juice from the bar. You and your bloody orange juice. A rock god buying orange juice…off course I found you intriguing after that."

"My orange juice caused you to think I was different? Whoa. That's a first," he laughed.

"And from our small talk. The way you'd talk about music. _Especially_ when you talked about music…your whole posture would change and your voice wouldn't sound dead. It was like you were from a different world," she said. "Are you happy now? You must have loved that ego boost."

During her talk she had advanced towards him from the other side of the room. Her rose fragrance was instilling his senses. He had been vibrantly angry a few minutes ago, but now he was back to being his composed self. Even though it sounded naïve to believe her straight away, somehow he did. He was stupid for straight away assuming something of her. But was he also stupid for trusting her so easily. Even before she explained her reasons, he had already forgiven her.

"Okay."

"That's it?" she blinked, bemused. "Is that all you're going to say? You were so pissed off before."

"Is there anything else that I might want to know about my wife...when practically the whole world knows more than I do?" he said satirically.

"Not that I can think of. I think that's the biggest one," she said, a smile flashing on her features. She already knew that it was okay to play along with the small joke. His sarcasm had given him away. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, "It's fine. Next time…just tell me, it will save me the shock."

"Sure."

"You know - we're married…and that was our first argument," he said, fiddling with the ring on his finger. "Having a relationship is about trust. If you don't trust me…what's the point of our marriage?"

She was laughing at him now. "God, you're so corny."

He scratched the back of his head and mumbled, "Yeah, I know. I'm just not good at this thing."

"You're not alone," she said.

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He groaned, leaning back on his chair as he let his finger flop ungratefully onto the keys of the piano causing a loud echoing off-key chord in his music room. Sora stared at him, losing interest at the CDs she had been surveying. "What's wrong? Am I disturbing you?"

"No, you're not. I just can't think of anything. This is due tomorrow. Kanji will be ready with a guaranteed pitchfork or halo to give me."

In a way, it sort of was. Sora had decided to stay at his apartment to explore his music room, witness him compose a song and because she didn't really have anything else to do on that day. She had another day off from the designing company and she was working at the jazz café that night. It hadn't even struck noon yet.

Who was he fooling? He couldn't blame Sora for his lack of motivation and inspiration with composing a new piece. The last time he had gotten inspiration was from that walk in the park. When he thought he had composed a fantastic piece of music, Kanji had almost bitten his head off. In some way, he guessed he was right. Yamato couldn't completely wander off into a different style that wasn't his band's genre. But still…from his manager snapping at him a bit too harshly he found it hard to think clearly what to do. He didn't like doing something when his heart wasn't completely in it. It was tough luck though…he had been doing this ever since he had joined the Teen-Age Wolves.

"Perhaps you need to listen to some songs?" she suggested. "Like from your old albums to give your sense of style back."

"That would kill me. You really don't know how much times I've played each of them on tour…they're permanently stapled in my mind and I cringe every time I think of them," he said.

She shrugged, "Just trying to help."

"I know," he said tersely. He did some scales, running his fingers up and down the piano…but still nothing came to his head.

"What's this?" Sora picked something from on top of one of his CD stands to reveal something that Yamato had almost forgotten about. Hell, he hadn't even read it yet. He jolted out of his seat and stood by her. He took the creased piece of paper and read it aloud.

"_Yamato, I know you're not really into our band any more. I wrote a composition, but somehow it feels like it suits you more than me. It's your choice with the lyrics. You can use this as a backup. Just in case. Somehow, I didn't know what to do with it…but I know you can do something with it. Enjoy. – Akira_."

"He's got neat writing too," Sora complimented. "Do you mind?"

She had the tape in between her fingers. "I'd like to hear what he's got."

Yamato nodded, wanting to listen to it as well. When it was in the cassette player, the music flowed out like a soft breeze. It was a lilting tune and sounded very calm…but then there would be intense moments where the piano notes would be played vivace and would decrescendo back into the airy tune. Akira would always be Akira. Drugged up or not, he had talent. There was no denying it. He owed him. Akira was right. This song did reach him…

He stood up and sauntered to where his guitars were displayed. His finger trailed on the electric, but stopped when he saw his old acoustic. He picked it up gently, cradling it like a baby and strapped it around his shoulder. He listened to Akira's tape again and mimicked the tune, then found chords to suit it in the guitar. In half an hour it was all set…and he played the mellow tune and perfected the tune.

The tune sounded beautiful on piano…but on his acoustic guitar it sounded so heart wrenching. It was then he knew that it would be a song about heartache. He stopped strumming and looked up to see that Sora had been watching her the whole time. Her eyes were teary as she applauded him. Someone who got teary, emotional or cried over music really understood it (whether with lyrics or without) understood the whole meaning of it. And he was glad that Sora saw it like this as well.

He squirmed to the other side of his seat and let her sit next to him. She didn't comment. He didn't need her to tell him that she liked the piece. Though, she still complimented him. "You're amazing. In half an hour you managed to pick out the melody from Akira's playing."

"It's a habit. I've always done it," he said truthfully. "And it was a simple melody. I just have the trouble with the lyrics."

"It's not that hard," she said.

"We don't often get this opportunity to have our own lyrics. We have a crappy lyricist who's in charge. I'm not good at it. I only feel the music when I'm playing…when I sing it's completely different."

"You're lying. You know you can do it," she said. "What's the song about?"

"Having your heart broken."

"See, you're half way there. From the tune you've already found the crux of what the story you're going to portray."

"If you think it's that easy, give me an opening line," he prodded. He played the start of the song, strumming slowly. She turned Akira's letter onto a the blank side and pulled a biro from her short's pocket and began scribbling a line.

"So, what is it?" he asked. She gave him the sheet, but he refused to take it. He demanded, "That's words on the sheet. I know you're capable of singing. Plus, when I sing that it may be different from the tune you intended. C'mon Sora."

She gave in and closed her eyes. He played the introduction first and then she came in. "_I remember, watching your back as you left. I remember, all the sweet things you said_."

It was then that Yamato knew that he was a natural lyricist. Yamato always struggled with putting his emotions into words that had always been his brother's forte. He only could express his music through playing instruments…but with words, he couldn't. Sora had brought out true words of how he felt when he strummed the chords.

"You're helping me with this," Yamato stated. "We're going to get this song done by dinner. I'm taking you out if we ace this."

They pressed on, working hard as a duo. They clashed perfectly together. And then the time came when Yamato recorded his instrumental strumming so that it would be easier for Sora to edit words around in certain bits. As she sang, Yamato couldn't help but sing along in harmony. Their voices collided and it felt strangely satisfying. It felt as if they were on stage again, singing Sinatra's 'Summer Wind.'

A couple of hours went by and it was finally complete. He was playing the guitar now and singing the words she had written for him while she recorded him. By the end of the song he let out a long sigh. It was catharsis, all right. It felt good to know he had finally finished the composition with her help. The lyrics were breath taking.

She applauded again but stopped as he held her by the waist as he joyfully spun her around in circles, feet dangling in the air as she squealed.

"You're brilliant," he said.

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**(a/n)**

**Yes, I know I haven't exactly updated for two months now…but I'll get into it – really. It took me long to update because I had to finish both LimitZ II and PPZ before I even thought about settling back to this one. I hope you had a fantastic Christmas and wishing you a belated 2008. **

I've got to (sort of) important notices as well.

**i)** With LimitZ II and PPZ being completed, it means that I get to solely focus on this story. Thanks for your support and I'll try to get at least (hopefully) one chp coming up every fortnight.

**ii)** My profile can't be frequently updated anymore because my mac doesn't allow it to do so – thus I have to go to the library to return/borrow a book as well as update my profile

**iii)** Since I don't update my profile much nowadays, I decided to put up an LJ. As some of you may have picked up through my updates on LimitZ II and PPZ…I've been frequently mentioning this. For those who don't know…I thought I might as well inform you here as well. My LJ doesn't just contain work, for it also (unfortunately) contains other misc stuff that I randomly feel like putting up depending on my mood.

It's **stringless-kite . livejournal . com** (remove the spaces and it DOESN'T include a _www_ before it)

**iv)** This will be my last 'full-length' story on After this, I plan to convert to fictionpress and start my own story from scratch, which I have been intending to do for years (literally). It doesn't necessarily mean that I will give up on altogether. I still may post one-shots here and there. Just _not_ (I repeat) a full-length story

**Sorry for the long author's note. I just had to get all of that out of the way before continuing. Next time it won't be as long. Hope you enjoyed this chapter (story) so far. **


	12. Chapter Twelve

Written 12.o2.o8

_**Shouting out to my lovely reviewers:**_ _Jillianna, SpiffyCookie, the-lionness, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, crest of music, nickygirl, OMFG-Roach, Waltz Turner, Yamora Love n Friendship, raspberrycharm and TheWitchLady_…_**thank-you**_ ;D

**Raspberrycharm** (you didn't leave your email! Haha): The fluff will come in the next chp. I'm not sure if you'll consider this chp as fluff…but nevertheless. I hope you enjoy this one. You should read more soratos. There are better ones out there. haha

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Twelve**

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**Behind his back**, Yamato crossed his fingers wishing for the best. The last seconds of the track diminished into the air and he waited for his verdict. Yutaka nodded his head, Takahashi had a satisfied look on his face and as for his manager…

"_Sensational_!" Kanji bellowed, praising him with his full and undivided admiration. "That was sensational, Yamato! It's about time you got it together!"

He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. Kanji was actually praising Akira's composition and Sora's lyrics. Yamato waved his hands in the air, shaking off the compliment and explaining how he had managed to pull it off…but Kanji was already replaying the track on the CD player.

It was then that the concept struck him. "Kanji?" he started. "Would it be alright if Sora did a duet with me in that son-"

"No," his manager snapped before he had the chance to finish his sentence. "It's not possible. It doesn't work like that. I don't want to distribute a song with two lovers."

"But she was the one that practically made it," he protested.

"Sure, Yamato. But it all comes down to me. I'm your manager," Kanji said firmly. "This album is based on the band itself. You can keep your love life out of this…which leads me to your fiasco."

"My fiasco?"

"Would you mind toning it down with your relationship with that woman of yours?" he said with a dismissive look on his features. "The media's already latched on. You need to break it off with her because then we'll lose some of our female audience."

"She's my wife."

"I don't care if she's my stepsister's long lost niece," his manager spoke satirically. "I personally don't even care if you're with her or not. I care about this band. This is my job."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We get it Kanji," Yutaka muttered, one foot swinging on top of his other and began to shake his feet – obviously wanting to leave the studio as soon as possible.

"Yamato, if it makes it easier. Just break up with her publicly and make a close cover to see her. If she had produced those lyrics to the song you presented…keep her. She's a good screw as well…you know?"

"You're a bastard, you know?" Yamato growled. Takahashi just patted the blond lead singer on the shoulder to calm him down, albeit it wasn't doing much.

"As I said earlier. I don't give a rat's ass about anything but the success rate of this band…how do you think got you here?" Kanji stepped on his cigarette with the heel of his shoe and proceeded to head for the door. His work was done here. He had gained a track that was good enough for their new album.

"Next week one of you had better come out with a new band name," he said dully. "Great job again, Yamato." And then he was out of his vision.

Yutaka didn't bother to wait for the rest, leaving the three other members of the band behind.

"Yeah, I still haven't thought about that. Perhaps we should name our band the Four Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf. The latter is obviously Kanji," Takahashi babbled on.

Yamato grunted in response, his eyes slid at the member behind the keyboard. He sauntered over to Akira. "Thanks Akira."

There was no response. He just sat there staring at the black keys as if it was the first time he had seen something that shade before. Now that Yamato was closer to the keyboardist he picked out things he hadn't realised before.

Akira's face looked thinner and gaunt. As per usual, his eyes were somewhere else…but this time his gaze seemed darker. His lips were dry and his body was shaking slightly. Yamato glanced at Takahashi who was next to him. The bassist gave a shrug, also unaware of the explanation to Akira's sudden change. Hell, who were they kidding…they knew. Whatever Akira was on…Yamato knew it was rapidly getting to him.

"Snap out of it, Akira," Takahashi said, clapping his hands together. Better late than never, Akira blinked and stared up at them bemused. "The meeting's over. Yamato said thanks for the composition."

"Oh."

Yamato exchanged glances with Takahashi again. '_I'll look after him_' the bassist said quietly. Yamato nodded and scurried down to the bottom floor of the studio. He rushed out the building and switched on his mobile phone.

Even though the electric guitarist was rather concerned about the band's keyboardist, he couldn't help but feel relieved and grateful for Kanji accepting the song. He had promised to ring up and catch up with Sora to tell her if it would be a success. He dialed her number. Typically, he was welcomed with the monotonous dial down. Seemed like he'd have to go see her. It didn't matter. They had planned to meet each other after the quick appearance at her clothes design company. (Heck, he still hadn't gotten over the fact that she was a designer – international too. That was how his grandmother was aware because Sora's designs had become well known in France as well.)

He stuffed his phone into his back pocket and smiled when he saw the familiar limousine drive smoothly next to the pavement where he was standing on. As soon as he hopped in Jyou greeted him with the normal polite etiquette he had always possessed. It had been a while since he had seen the medical student.

"Where to?"

"4-6 Marunouchi. Soar for the Sky designs. Do you know of it?"

"Off course I know of it," Jyou shook his head. "That place is where most of the topnotch brand stores are."

Yamato nodded, just as Jyou swerved the large vehicle into the opposite route it had come from. He smiled again. Kanji had let the band off for the day. He was meant to catch up with Taichi, but he was busy with work. Takeru had the same excuse. Nevertheless, Sora wanted him to tell her ASAP whether Kanji would like the song they were working on the night before. She told him to meet her at her workplace and that she wouldn't take long before she was let off the hook as well.

Since she had done him the humungous favour, Sora made him cook him dinner that other night. His grandmother had managed to brag to Sora that he was a 'good chef,' that Sora was interested to critique his prepared meals. She got his approval and boasted that she should cook for her every night. He laughed.

"What are you laughing at? You've fallen for her…haven't you? I don't blame you. She's amazing."

Jyou hadn't bothered to conceal the window between the driver's and passenger's seat this time…so it surprised that he asked him out of the blue.

"Who?" Yamato played along, dumbfounded.

"You're hopeless," Jyou rolled his eyes, snickering. "You're here."

"Thanks Jyou," he stepped out. "I won't bother you for a bit. You've got those critical exams coming up, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Good luck, man," Yamato said. "You'll do fine."

"Let's hope so."

As the limousine zoomed off, he caught sight of where he was. The road he was on was filled with a string of well-known extravagant classy and expensive branded stores. The footpath was congested with mainly females shopping and the occasional male accompanying by carrying their shopping bags. Although he conceded that he had quite a large amount of money, he never bothered when it came to brands. Sure, he made sure his musical instruments were the best out there…but clothes. He really didn't understand how women could be bothered. All he had to do was pull on a pair of slacks or jeans and a shirt and he was off. Off course, women had to make everything seem difficult. Then again, he was a guy. He had no idea how the female mind worked.

He then focused on the building Jyou had dropped him off at. In sleek black glossy letters '_Soar to the Sky_' titled the building. Like the other stores, it was surfaced out to be rather modern and elegant at the same time. It was a moderate size but as his neck tilted upwards he saw that there were quite a number of stories – presumably the business and main office side to Sora's brand label. The glass doors slid apart as he went into the store.

"Sir? How are you today? Are you interested in purchasing anything?" was what he was overwhelmingly introduced with questions as an introduction by one of the saleswomen.

He shook his head, smiling politely. "I was actually looking for the main office."

She blinked then nodded her head, lips scrunching up in thought. She lifted up her left arm and curved her hand inward. "It's in that direction. Exit that way and you shouldn't miss it."

He gratefully thanked the woman and schemed his way through the racks of clothing. Like the salesperson had said, he didn't miss it. Well, it wasn't exactly hard to miss. There was a clear distinction from the store and the company's main office.

The first thing he noticed was how polished the ivory marble ground was. He swore that he could almost see his own reflection on the floor. He quizzically stepped around on them with interest until another person interrupted him.

"You're Yamato, right?" a voice echoed.

He thought the place was empty, but evidently it wasn't. He wasn't sure who had spoken since he couldn't find anyone there. He then took note of a splintery looking wooden ladder situated on the other side of the foyer that contrasted from its whole surrounding.

"Up here," the voice revealed itself again. His eyes trailed up the ladder to see yet another woman. He observed that she was multitasking - holding a petite paintbrush in between her fingers, a palette on the other and managing to maintain a steady balance on the last step of the ladder with fearless expression on her face.

"Uh…"

"You're looking for Sora, right?" she asked rhetorically once again.

"Yeah, I am."

She was now slowly pacing down the steps, some of her lilac shaded hair slipping out of her black beret. She advanced towards him and shook his hand. "Well hi. Sora's been talking about you for a while now. I'm Yolei." She adjusted her hat and gave a toothy grin. "I'm not really in the right clothing right now. My apologies. This isn't really a formal greeting."

"It's fine," he laughed, seeing that she was wearing a checkered red and white art-smock. "It's nice to meet you." From just conversing a little with her, he already knew that they'd get along. She was a bright friendly type…sort of reminded him of his brother, just (perhaps) less conniving.

"It's still pretty embarrassing. I've praised your band for such a long time. Has Sora even mentioned me?"

"Oh…I think she has," he said, recalling Sora saying that she had a friend that highly regarded his band with posters plastering her room like wallpaper. His eyesight lingered behind her. "What were you doing?" There were splashed of colour where she had been. Whatever she was creating wasn't finished yet, but it already looked magnificent.

"You caught me in the middle of decorating one of the walls. I already etched a design on the wall…now it's just about stroking the walls a blue-y pastel…since her label is practically named after the sky. But then again…the sky could be different colours," she spoke as if she wasn't breathing in between. The woman sure had a lot to say. "I was meant to have gotten this done a while ago…but so much things have come up. I didn't realize it would become so busy with the launch in France…and the launch in Tokyo. It's been really insane."

"So you're pretty close to Sora?" he pondered his thought aloud.

"I'm her secretary. I know, it's hard to believe since I'm dressed like this," Yolei laughed. "Guess she hasn't really said much about me to you, huh? With Sora…she's always so quiet about her life. Sometimes for certain things you want to know about her…you've got to ask her directly."

"How'd you meet her?"

"We attended the same art college. She was studying clothes design, while I was more on the 2d art painting scene. Somehow we got along," she said, eyes sparkling as she remembered how they met. "Sometimes you've got to follow someone that you know who will make it into the marketing world…then you sort of become their follower. Not everyone that is or was part of the art college becomes successful in the future. We can't all become famous…nor can we all get a career in the real world. But I knew Sora was an exception. I had faith in her."

"Why?"

"There's this immediate attraction you gain from meeting her. She's just different, you know? From the beginning you know she'll be successful. For as long as I've known her she's always been so determined with whatever she wants to do. Not to mention…she's also unbelievably talented. Something rare these days, you know?"

"Yeah," his throat felt dry. The more he got to know Sora…the more she seemed far out of grasp. There still were so many things he didn't know. Somehow her friendship with Yolei made him strangely jealous. Maybe he would get Sora to tour him around the store and show off her designs later…

Yolei continued, "So when she asked me if I wanted to join her on her journey…off course I accepted her proposal! She's great at everything she does."

They talked for a bit more, though it was more one sided on Yolei's part. That woman could chatter on and on non-stop. She finally remembered that her palette paints would dry up if they were exposed any longer. She told him to take a seat, telling him that Sora would be there soon and switched on the plasma screen for something to keep him occupied. He shrugged back, comfortably on the leather sofa as if he were home, flicking through the channels.

There was nothing really on so he decided to wait for the evening news to air. Suddenly in the middle of a commercial there was suddenly loud noises echoing from outside of the building. He exchanged glances with Yolei who also was distracted from her brush strokes. When the flashing began, he already knew. He jumped off his seat and headed towards the closest window he could find.

Outside there was a combination of eager interviewers and roaming paparazzi snapping photos in comparison to the harmless female shoppers that he had seen earlier. In the middle of the throng he caught sight of her. Even from far he could see her biting her bottom lip. She looked equally stressed and flustered as she would once in a while brush her fringe away from her face. It was then he noticed that her brown eyes almost seemed…_teary?_

"My God," Yolei was now behind him looking at all the people. "She hates this sort of attention. She's never been really good at this public speaking thing. She likes being prepared when it comes to this stuff. I've got to go and-"

"Don't," Yamato said. She looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I'll go. I have a feeling that this little bombarding is linked with me as well," he said, pushing her slightly aside. "I'll do it." Her mouth was open to object, but gave a curt nod.

The sliding doors opened as he strode towards them and immediately felt the cameras snap at his direction. "_Ishida?" "It's Yamato Ishida?" "Your husband?" "Is this lady your wife, Ishida?"_ He inwardly groaned when he remembered that he wasn't wearing a disguise that day. He recovered, noticing that it didn't matter if his identity were revealed because it was bound to happen either way if he were to help her.

He avoided the questions being thrown at him and shaved his way in between the people. Security was already there, though they did little assistance. He promptly let his arm slip around her shoulder. She could feel her tension slide off a bit, but he could feel her still frightened. _She hates this sort of attention…_Yolei's words repeated in his head. "Calm down. Relax," he said from the corner of his mouth. "I'll handle it."

He smoothly stared at the media. There was no way one could beat them. Yamato had learnt that already. The only way to get by was to elicit their game back at them. At times it was fun, at times it was painful…either way, he had mastered this.

"…true you're married? There are rings on both of your wedding fingers."

He simpered arrogantly. "Why are you even asking that question? Why else would we have rings on them?"

"Since when have you been married? How did you meet?"

"We've been married for quite some while. Proves how slow some of you can be," he smirked. He heard her giggle softly against his ear. He allowed one of his hands to clasp onto hers. He felt her fingers thread into his. He looked on forward, even more determined for what was next to be shot at them.

"Mr. Ishida, don't you find it strange that you have become acquainted with her just around the time of her fashion debut?"

"Actually, we met each other a while before. She's been good friends with my best friend…that's how we met," Yamato replied with a half lie.

"How about the release in Tokyo. We know that you're branch has been a success in France…when do you plan to launch this, Ms. Takenouchi…or should I say Mrs. Ishida?"

There was a pause. "I can't answer this one, Sora. You've got to help me here."

He squeezed her hand, hopefully giving her the support and courage to respond back to the meddling crowd.

"Mrs. Ishida," she corrected, sucking a deep breath of air in then exhaling. Only he could feel the quiver in her voice when she spoke. "Soar to the Sky has plans to properly launch it here in a couple of weeks."

Just as another journalist was about to shoot another query, Yamato saw Jyou's head stick out of his limousine. "Forgive us," he bowed his head. He gripped onto Sora's wrist as they made a run for the vehicle. They shut the doors and the flashes of the light discontinued since the limousine's windows were tinted.

"You're our savior, Jyou," Sora announced. "My heart is still beating."

"Yeah, man…how'd you know?"

"Live coverage," Jyou snickered.

"Great," Yamato groaned. He knew that somewhere out there Taichi and Mimi were guffawing their brains out. He could also picture his grandmother was probably showing off to bystanders that he was their grandson. He turned to her. "Hey, shouldn't you be thanking me more?"

Her lips pursed, "Thanks."

"You're not good at that whole public thing, are you?"

"Honestly…I don't know how you can do it. You've got to give me tips on this."

"Well…you adjust. It's not something you learn overnight. You do need to especially now you're becoming more famous."

"Okay," she said quietly. "So…"

When he didn't reply she stared at him bluntly as if she was waiting for some snide remark from his end.

"What?" he asked.

"You're not going to ask a favour back?" Sora said. "This is how it's always been between us. I'll do this …if you do this for me."

"Sort of like a business relationship?" Jyou couldn't help but add. He caught Jyou wink at him from the rearview mirror. It was then he looked he was aware he still was holding her wrist. He carefully took it off, hoping she wouldn't notice it.

"Exactly," she concurred. "So, _Matthew_? Decided yet? What's it going to be this time?"

He chuckled at her teasing tone as he contemplated. It was then he remembered something he had almost forgotten. It was darn lucky he had remembered it.

"Tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night _what_?"

"My parents and grandparents want to meet you tomorrow night. It'll be a getting-to-know-them for dinner. Hikari and TK will be there too."

"Another one?" she said. "Your lot seems to enjoy these family functions."

"It's going to be formal, so wear your snazziest outfit you own…or designed, in your case," he informed, stirring away from her comment.

"Don't worry. I'll pull off something good."

"I know you will," he said automatically. He wanted to slap himself on the face when he picked up that he was unconsciously flirting. Whenever he was with her it felt like he was prone to it.

As they passed through a number of streets, she poked him on the shoulder.

"You didn't tell me how it went with our composition. Did they like it?"

"They loved it," he grinned. "All thanks to you." He went into full description of Kanji and the other band members' reaction to the track (though he excluded his manager's crude remarks that were aimed at her).

The limousine halted and he watched her get out of the car. They had thought against going out for a coffee as they had planned since they knew that there were paparazzi still at their backs.

"You got yourself a date, huh?" Yamato rolled his eyes at Jyou who just shuffled his eyebrows in amusement.

"Pick you up at 6?" he called after her. Sora's back was already facing him and his auburn hair glistened fiery in the sunlight. She didn't bother to turn around and lifted her hand in the air, giving a wave with the back of her hand. "I'll take that as a yes."

He chuckled again.

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**(a/n) I guess it was sort of eventful and non-eventful at the same time. The next chapter is obviously going to have more sora x yamato action. I just want to stress that I'm not getting them to be together 'straight-away'…there's still some time that needs to surpass and also some barriers they have to cross. It's been dragging so far…but right after the next chapter…the real story will begin to unfold. Thanks for staying in tune with this story so far. Again, the next chp should hopefully be posted within this fortnight.**

**Thanks for your never-ending support. Lots of love**

**flipstahhz**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Written 22.o2.o8

_Thank-you, __**Thank-you, THANK-YOUs **__**too**___ _SpiffyCookie, the-lioness, AnimePinkCess, Waltz Turner, nickygirl, TheWitchLady, Yamora Love n Friendship, theladyknight (for reviewing quite a few all at once), Mrs. Radcliffe 13, BrownEyesAngel and SkuAg._

**(a/n)** This chp has come out early (for once). Enjoy! It's longer too!

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Thirteen**

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**As the limousine** swerved the slippery corner, his right hand was tightening around his mobile that it appeared as if he wanted to crush it to pieces. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"I kid you not. Now get your ass down here as soon as possible!" Takeru roared from the other end of the line. It wasn't usual that Takeru acted this stressed especially with his carefree attitude, but then again with the circumstances he had just heard from him…he'd be too.

"How long are you going to be?"

Yamato gazed out the window to see where he was. All that he could make out was blurs of colours. Out of all times, the storm clouds had decided to sabotage that night. "We're down 7th avenue. We'll be there in approximately 5," Jyou, who had been listening to the conversation, informed.

"5 minutes."

"Well hurry up your ass here!" the line was cut off and Yamato felt Sora poke his shoulder. Jyou heard Takeru's yell and took his queue as driver to step harder on the accelerator because both Yamato and Sora were thrown forward.

"Sorry," she apologised for the tenth time, straightening back against the leather interior. "We wouldn't be running late if it wasn't for me. I really thought the meeting would take less time...I really didn't know about-"

"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "I'm actually more scared about going to that place now. Right now all I wish all we could do is drive the opposite direction."

"I can do that if you want," Jyou offered.

"No, it's okay…because then TK will kill me," Yamato laughed bitterly. "What?" He asked when he saw Sora scrutinising him with a pondering look.

"Why are you scared? Why does TK want you there already? What's so terrible about this?" she interrogated. "It's your parents, your grandparents and TK and Kari…what's wrong about that?"

"Ha. You've forgotten my parents were divorced."

"No, I know about that…just…what's the big deal? Either way if they don't get along they won't be sitting close to each other…and they can avoid each other the whole night and talk to other people."

"No, that's not it," he stifled a sigh. "My mother brought along a date…when she clearly didn't tell us she would."

"So?"

"You see," Yamato cleared his throat. "My father still loves my mother. Sure, he's gotten it together and fixed his life on track…but deep inside he still cares for her."

"That's sad."

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. "Though…it was his fault from the beginning. He cheated on her…and she never forgave him."

"That's why I never dated when I way younger," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm smart."

"That is pretty wise of you. Still…I find you insane. Being a _pretend_ wife suits you more?"

"I'm unpredictable."

"I think I remember using that line on you before," Yamato chuckled.

Just in time the vehicle stopped. The passenger door swung open and soon they were out in the drastic weather. Jyou, being the gentleman he was, pulled out a black umbrella and led each one of them to shelter.

A waiter opened the door and they entered the exquisite place. From one glance, he knew that his whole family were going to forcefully make him pay for the cheque. The hallway glistened and sparkled from the intricate chandeliers draping over them. Sora excitedly proceeded down to the opposite side of the building with Yamato and Jyou tagging behind her. The blond haired man started dawdling as he looked at the reflection on one of the mirrors, fixing his collar. The night beforehand, Sora had rang him up to tell him what colour to wear so that they would suit…so he was wearing a buttoned-up long sleeved navy top accompanied with a dark grey blazer and matching pants.

His gaze flickered to Sora to check if they were wearing the same shade. When Sora had hopped into the limousine, Jyou sped to their destination straight away – thus he had forgotten to notice his wife's dress. He didn't get a proper view since her back was facing him…but _damn_ she had a nice back. The dress was doing her justice too. It didn't show all of it, but the criss-crossed straps exaggerated her posterior body a bit more. The dress was (gratefully) close to his navy coloured top and flowed a bit longer down her knees. Her long auburn hair was put up in one of her typical buns but had a few silver jewels sprinkled while her high heels were black. Her attire was simple…but somehow she still pulled off 'glamorous.'

Jyou turned around to see why Yamato was sauntering behind and a smirk flickered on his face, he raised an eyebrow at him. "Checking her out?"

"No," he immediately spluttered the response. "Thank-you Jyou, you can leave now. Sora! Jyou's leaving!"

As Sora turned to face them, Jyou took off his hat and gave a comedic dramatized bow before departing. Yamato groaned when he still saw Jyou's smirk when he left. Sora walked towards him. She playfully, but meaningfully, hit him hard on the arm. "Why didn't you invite him to come? That was mean of you."

"Oww! He told me earlier that he had a date tonight," he said honestly, rubbing his arm where she had hit him.

"Still, that was mean. Next time you should invite him. You forget that he takes time off his studying to drive him around. You should appreciate Jyou…he's such a good person."

"Yeah, I know," Yamato agreed as they waited in the line to be served. "What do you suggest I do back for him?"

"Pay for his university course."

"Wow, aren't you generous. Hey…you're going to get as much money as me soon…so why don't you donate it to him instead-_ouch!"_

"Don't be so stingy," she warned. Even though she looked beautifully harmless that night, she still whipped a good hit when needed.

A waiter was now standing before them. As expected from a highly classy restaurant, his posture was scaringly straight and was so well groomed that it looked like he was made out of plastic. From staring at him, Yamato scolded himself when he recollected that he had forgotten to shave. Not that it was really noticeable; he just always preferred being clean-shaved.

"Good evening, Sir, Madam," he gave a bow, similar to Jyou's exaggerated one earlier. "Have you made any reservations?"

"Yes, I think it was under Takaishi," Yamato said, knowing for a fact that if it had been under Ishida…it would have been either his father or he who had booked the table. There was no way in hell he would picture his father do it, and he knew that he hadn't unconsciously book a table.

"Come this way."

As they followed the worker's tail, he glimpsed the place taking in the restaurant. No matter how rich he was, he could never get used to this sort of place. It sickened him to think how much it would cost if he were to _accidentally_ bumped into one of the statues. Not like he was going to try it, mind you. He drank in his surrounding as they continued to loop around the various tables. In fact, almost every table there had couples seated down. He swore he even saw one of the men propose.

"Here you are," he said. Yamato gave a thankful nod at the waiter who gave another bow before going off to one of his other duties.

The first thing he noticed was the uneven number. On one side of the table were his brother and Hikari. There were two vacancies next to Hikari, so they took their seat there. But that wasn't was bothering him. The vibe was distressing and gloomy. The other side of the table was the one that worried him the most. His grandparents were in the middle. On his grandmother's left sat his own mother and next his mother was her partner. Whereas on his grandfather's right was his own father, Hiraoki.

He caught sight of his father who looked quite relieved to see him. "Yamato." He was lucky that his father was on their side of the table. He offered Sora a seat next to Hikari. When they were seated and greeted each other, they all began unfolding back into their own little conversations. "Hi dad, it's been a while. This Sora. Sora, this is my dad."

He nodded, smiling so widely that the candlelight gleamed his white teeth. It was so fake that it made Yamato's insides turn. There was no hiding the fact that his father was suffering here. "I should have brought my own date, ey?" he asked in a soft sarcastic tone so that his grandfather couldn't here. His father nudged his head to the opposite end of the table where he spotted his mother clearly flirting with the person she had brought along to their dinner. "If I knew, I would have told you."

"I know," he said.

Sora entered the talk, "So what do you do, Mr. Ishida?"

"Oh, I'm the head of Fuji TV's sports show," he said.

"Whoa. You're doing well," she marvelled. "Your family sure is something. TK's a write…Matt's a lead singer, you're the head of one of the department's on Fuji and your wife-uh…um…"

"The same could be said for you, miss," his father smiled, dodging what she was about to comment on. "Yamato's told me about your own rise to popularity."

"I wouldn't really call it popularity. Not many people in Japan know of my company yet. Only the main store has been released, the other stores are yet to be opened to the public."

All was going well until his grandfather intervened. "Hiraoki, you should be proud of yourself."

"And why is that, Michel?" Yamato's father spoke through gritted teeth. Before they were smiling, but now they were glinting dangerously as if he were ready to shred someone with them into pieces.

Sensing that something was beginning to steer, the table had stopped talking and was solely focused on Yamato's end of the table. Sora was starting to turn pale. Even though she had never seen any of those grudging quarrelling disputes between his father and his grandparents she already could tell it would be rotten.

"Before you were just some TV consultant. What did you do to gain such a high position, Hiraoki? You didn't sleep with someone to get a higher position, did you? Oh, knowing you…you would have," he spoke roughly. "Yes, you should be proud of yourself."

Though his grandfather didn't speak much, whenever it came to anything serious that he was strongly against…he darn hell wasn't afraid to speak his mind. It was obvious that his grandfather had never forgiven his father for the collapse of their marriage.

"Dad," he heard his mother gasp.

From the other side of the table Takeru's eyes were wide open and Hikari was gaping in astonishment. His grandmother was shaking his head and Sora…well…Sora held his hand under the table and squeezed it in support. It was just like what he had done when she was having trouble when the media had ambushed her the day before.

His dad stood up from the table, politely excusing himself as he walked out. His father was a closed book whenever he got angry or aggressively mad. When he did, he usually locked it inside or would throw things around. Obviously, he couldn't do it here. Or…he would go outside and…

"Take a bloody smoke! Turn your back, why don't you! You've always been like that. You're too chicken-shit!" his grandfather growled loudly after him, causing heads to turn where they were seated. "I always disapproved of you marrying my daughter."

He lowered his voice and stared at Sora who was right in front of him. "Not that I disapprove of you, hon. Or Kari as well. My grandsons' picked fine women."

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Yamato said, standing up and throwing his napkin onto his plate. He let go of her hand and stormed away.

He ran out the door, retracing his father's steps. The cold breeze gusted through the navy shirt he had been wearing and soon he regretted that he hadn't put on his blazer before heading out. The pelting rain had changed into drizzles now. His heart pulsated through his body and goosebumps formed when he saw the battered figure leaning against the wall. Yamato confirmed that his father's pseudo act was now out the window.

As his grandfather had predicted, his father was already at it like a chimney. When Yamato neared him he didn't face his direction. He mumbled his thought aloud, "I didn't think that she'd take someone. It was blatantly obvious she would. She's Natsuko…of course she would."

Yamato shrugged, not knowing what to say and concluded that he wouldn't speak. Even though they hardly exchanged words with each other they were used to silent pauses between them. That's how it always was between them. They spoke when they had too, not uttering useless words or indulging each other in falsities. Sometimes it was best just to be there. That, on its own, was comforting enough.

He had always been closer to his father. They always had had a mutual understanding of each other. He didn't gain the title of 'Mama's boy' because Takeru had evidently taken that place. Actually, Yamato didn't really like his mother all that much. He was particularly bias because his father had been the one that raised him up for most of his life. Yamato was glad that his father had gotten custody over him because if it had been Takeru who had seen their father's state after the divorce…he knew it would have damaged his soul.

On his part, it had – it _still_ did.

Even if it wasn't him suffering, it still hurt seeing his father battling against himself. After so many years, he still was. Looking at him like this was always heart wrenching to some times handle. He watched his father take another mediating whiff from his cigarette. Looking at his father reminded him of how love can take another route.

His father still loved his mother…there was no denying that.

From the chain smoking, the countless nights he had witness his father get drunk after the divorce…he could never quite recover from it. Love was scary like that.

"For mum…I didn't think she'd go that low. I didn't think she'd take some one. But I don't think she did it intentionally to provoke you," Yamato tried. "Let's go back in dad. They'll be waiting for us."

"Give me a minute," he whispered coarsely, letting his arm slide across his eyes and doing it so casually that it looked like a normal thing to do. "You know, son, I was about to give her this…"

The next thing he knew, Yamato was holding the gift delicately with both of his hands. It was a tiny strange velvet box. He unfastened the lock and opened it. After turning the box in different directions to get the best light possible he realised what it was. It was one of those common glass rectangular ornaments that were made for being put on a small moving stage so that different shades of light would filter through; The ones where you could easily get from a flea market.

Before the divorce, he remembered the house was filled with the ornaments that his mother refused to throw out. As a kid he recalled playing with the glass pieces and lights when his mother wasn't looking. He was never allowed to touch them because they were fragile and easily broke. But the thing that stunned him was what the design was of..."A _treble clef_? Why of that?"

"You've heard this story many times…but I'll refresh you," he said in an amused voice, staring into the distance as he lunged into the past, finding the perfect words to describe it. "In my teenage years I was a part of a band too. Of course, it didn't obviously become as famous as yours…most likely because we sucked and were of pitch quite a lot. But nevertheless, it was how we first met. She had long hair at that time…boy was she beautiful."

"She was jumping up and down like an idiot. Not even jumping to the beat as well. But she was my first fan."

"And you were planning to give it to her tonight? Why?" Yamato queried.

"Reminiscing, I guess. That's all…mainly because it's Valentine's Day," he chuckled softly. "You know what? Why don't you give it to that girl of yours."

"She's _not_ my girl, dad! I've already told you countless times about the scheme and-"

"Hey, you might as well enjoy it. It's not normal that you have a date for Valentine's Day. I mean, I completely get you if you've already gotten her a present and don't want this petty cheap gift…"

"It's Valentine's Day?" the words finally stuck together in Yamato's mind. It clicked. That had been the reason why practically every table was taken that night and why even Jyou was going out for dinner. "I didn't know…was that why Grandma was so determined to book this day?"

"Knowing your grandmother, of course she did. And taking that you didn't know…give it to her," Hiraoki said, slapping him on the back.

"Thanks," Yamato said, stuffing it into his pocket. "It matches her too. We met on music as well."

"You told me that already."

"I know," he laughed. When he felt uncomfortable telling Tai or TK things, his father had always been the other best friend. His father had brought him up as a friend more than a son…and he appreciated it. "So what do you say…we go back in?"

His father hesitated, blowing out more smoke into the icy air. "Don't worry what they say or do, dad. If you feel uncomfortable…just leave."

He stared at him thoughtfully and said. "I'm not leaving."

"Why? I'm giving you the option."

"I'll leave once you kiss her…or at _least_ take a step forward."

"_Dad,_" he said. Then again, sometimes having your own father as a friend always had its consequences. "Don't be impossible."

"I'm not. I'm telling you truthfully, son. Don't let this girl get away. Look at me…it's the biggest regret I've made in my life," he said in dismal. "I want the best for you. I don't want you to become as miserable like me. C'mon tell me…isn't this the best thing you've had coming. What else could you possibly love even more?"

"Music."

"You're a disgrace," he declared. "Don't lie to me, Yamato. I know you inside out. Don't you dare pretend when I caught you stealing glances at her besides you when you were sure she wasn't looking! You were secretly asking for the butter just to cast glances at her! Yamato…you can't pull of that technique, that I used to pull of when I was younger, and pretend you're not doing it.

"I hardly know her…I only found out she was a fashion-designer only a few days ago!"

"It's expected. You don't even know her because you _haven_'t made a goddamn effort!"

"But-"

"Just, for once, Yamato…do your old man a favour," he said. "I'm going to stay to at least see one good thing happen tonight. You hear?"

"Fine," he gave in. "Just one kiss."

"Can't be on the cheek either…that's pansy."

"Not on the cheek. Check. I got it," Yamato rolled his eyes.

"It's Valentines Day. Your ever so _lovely_ grandparents would want to see some sign to symbolise your eternal love. Don't be so disappointed."

"I'm going…" he realised that he was the only one making his way back inside. "Are you coming?"

"I'll be watching from here," Hiraoki replied. He caught his son's admonished look. "And yes, I'll go in a bit later. Just going to have one more cig for luck's sake."

"Luck?"

"Luck that you'll finally fall in love. I don't like you being a shadow and comparing all relationships to your mother and my divorce. I don't want you being all so cynical when you've never been in love yourself. It's the best feeling in the world, Yamato. Give it a try. Don't make the same mistake I did. Love is only cure to loneliness."

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When he returned to the table, the atmosphere had changed into a jollier one. Ah, the affects of alcohol. Hikari was giggling a bit more from her bubbling champagne and his brother's charming jokes. His mother and her date were locked in a deep conversation over sparkling wine. And his grandparents were animated in talk with Sora. She pivoted on her chair when he took his seat. "How is he?"

"He'll be good," he said.

"He's always got it easy anyway-"

"Don't start, grandpa. Seriously…_don't_ start," he stressed. Even though he knew that his grandfather was in the wrong, he couldn't help but apologise. "Sorry for snapping."

"You had the right to, Matt," Takeru said. Grandparents' and mother's boy spoke out, shocking the whole lot of them. "You really can't let this family grudge go on any longer…we're already in our twenties now, you've all got to grow up. We have."

"I think you've had too much champagne," Kari giggled nervously, slipping the glass from his hand. It seemed that Hikari didn't want another outburst. She was somewhat right. This night was meant to be for celebration and festivities. It was for a family to reunite and 'show off' their girlfriends (or on his case – his wife).

The night progressed. Yamato was quite disappointed that his mother hadn't made the effort to get to know Sora, nor properly greet them. But he was fine with it. She seemed too preoccupied to care anyway. His father had finally joined the table. His grandfather didn't offer any more snide comments, which was a good sign. But he had resorted to silent treatment with Hiraoki instead – not that his father minded. Yamato was pretty certain he was gratified with his change of attention.

He also found out another new thing about Sora - she didn't like fish. She swapped her dish around for his steak while he wolfed down her fish in pleasure and stole the left overs that she couldn't fit in her stomach.

"You're playing it off well," Hikari whispered at the couple in merriment. "You really are acting like a couple. Can I see your rings?"

She laughed when she saw the fake gleaming. "TK's going to take years to propose to me. You're lucky that you took a leap."

"I heard that," TK grumbled.

"Where did you go?" Yamato questioned. He had seen his brother disappear for a second and now he was back.

"Watch my smooth move…and why you'll never be as suave as me," he snickered.

It was at the end of his sentence that the lights dimmed that the only visible lighting was from the candlelights on each table of the restaurant. A live small orchestra started playing a boppy beat. Immediately Hikari grabbed Takeru's hand as they volunteered themselves to be the first pair on the dance floor. Takeru mimicked 'I told you so' to his brother before leaving the table.

It was then that the whole table of older adults were looking up at them expectantly. His father even had the nerve to give him two thumbs up. He inwardly groaned but Sora took the opportunity. "I love to dance, Yamato," she said standing. "Don't reject me."

"How could I?" he chuckled, standing up besides her as they made their way slowly to join the other duo. "Also, any way to get away from them. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It doesn't matter. You're making it up with me with a dance," she said sternly.

"You're so sure about this."

"I never got to go to my senior school dance," she said quietly. She fluttered her eyelashes up at him. "Please?"

"Fine."

"You're easy."

"You were lying?" he said astounded. "I swear, women and flirting…"

"Hey, I wasn't flirting. I just wanted a dance. Plus…it was true. I never got to dance at my senior deb. If you count clubbing with Mimi, that is."

He caught his father staring at them an pointing at his blazer pocket. He sighed, and pulled it out. "Happy Valentine's Day."

She accepted the small gift, opened the lid and observed it with satisfaction. "It's gorgeous. Thanks." She didn't have to tiptoe to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "I really didn't expect you to get me something. I've never had a Valentine before either."

"You really need to catch up with the world," he laughed. "Here, I'll hold on to that." He put the box back into his pocket. "I promised you a dance."

When they headed for the dance floor the lively tune translated into a decrescendo and a slow lilting tune became present. The brass and strings stopped playing in the orchestra and a single pianist played her song while a middle-aged man began singing onto the microphone. "_My funny valentine / sweet comic valentine / you make me smile…with my heart."_

They were besides Takeru and Hikari now who gave them brief beams before focusing back on each other. Yamato thought he'd take this chance to focus on her as well – especially when his father's eyes were leering down on him anticipating for him to break his promise.

He placed his hand on her waist. She was closer, her rosy fragrance was filling his senses now and leaving the scene hazy. "This reminds me of the first time I saw you," her wine coloured lips whispered.

"Really?" he said, feeling her grasp his shoulder. "How so?"

"You wore one of your ridiculous disguises too," she rambled on. "You didn't know me then…but this song…it was playing."

"You're peculiar, you know? Whenever I have my first encounters…I remember talks, not the music or surrounding around me," he said. "I guess it's my turn now. When I first saw you…I remember seeing you drawing on a serviette."

"Really? I don't remember."

"Well…you were spying on me…I guess I have the right to spy as well," he smirked. "You then tossed it aside…and then I went to see what you wrote."

"What did I write?"

"It wasn't a word. It was actually a simple drawing," he recalled, picturing the image in his head. "It was of a bass clef and an upside down treble clef that formed a heart."

"Oh, those," she laughed. "I always do them…they're fun."

"When I saw it…I knew that I had to talk to you. I wanted to know your taste in music…somehow it seemed to matter to me."

"You wouldn't have met me."

"I wouldn't have gotten to know you. You're so peculiar, you know?"

She pushed herself higher so that they were an inch from other. "Well, for tonight…I'm your funny valentine."

From behind her he could see his father displaying a proud grin. He didn't need the signal for letting his lips press against hers. It was bound to happen. He felt his body trembling with a foreign sensation.

Screw if they weren't really a couple…at that moment, their marriage was real enough to him.

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**(a/n)** So now you know why 'My Funny Valentine' is called 'My Funny Valentine.' (besides it being the first song in this story…if some of you may have/n't noticed). Pretty 'funny' because I just remembered I posted this story up two years ago on Valentines Day. Quite coincidental, huh? LOL. My favourite character writing about in this chp has got to be Mr. Ishida – Yamato & Takeru's father. This is one of the reasons why it's taken me long to get his parents into the frame of this story.

Thanks for reading so far. It wasn't super sappy(okay, may it was), but it's not going to continue like this – I'm a spoiler. HAHA. Let's just say it's going to be running down hill from here…

The angst was bound to hit somewhere. I suck, don't I?

Heart flipstahhz

Ps. Next chp should be within a fortnight!

Pss. Replying to all your reviews tomorrow. I'm dead tired.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Written 25.o2.o8

_**THANKS to**_ _little0maggie, the-lionness, AnimePinkCess, Waltz Turner, Rewind Soldier, nickygirl, crest of music Mrs. Radcliffe 13, Yamora Love n Friendship, Phoenixe825, TheWitchLady and SpiffyCookie_

**(a/n)** ONLY this chapter is classified as **M. **

**This has to be my record update for this story.**

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Fourteen**

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**The taxi driver **held out his hand for the payment. Without a second thought Yamato hastily handed out the first note of his leather wallet. The driver refused the one hundred dollar note at first, but Yamato insisted by simply getting out of the cab and showing off a reassured wave. The lead singer hadn't bothered to ring up Jyou to take him to his destination because whenever it came down to heightened emergency he, like any other person, had tossed all common sense out of the window.

When he had gotten Takahashi's call, he knew there was some sort of trouble. The urgency in his tone, the quivering in his voice at 4o'clock in the morning was enough to be aware that something was not right. Also, taking into consideration, Takahashi wasn't one for being disturbed in those hours since he was a hard sleeper. Something must have ploughed his head in to cause him to be awake at that time. The first word he said was _Akira_. With that name being spoken, Yamato immediately was out of bed and dressed into a shirt and a pair of jeans lying around on his bedroom floor. By then Takahashi had managed to briefly spit out that there was bad news and that he had to get to Akira's house as soon as possible – which he did. Since Takahashi didn't go into depth with the bad news, Yamato was going to figure it out.

It was nearing 5 in the morning now. His eyelids were half closed as he squinted to absorb the situation. From the street being usually solitary and empty at this usual time, it was filled with the notorious paparazzi and anchormen seeking a good story. Hell, he didn't even know what the story was about himself. He brushed himself through the throngs of people…and then he heard the auditory sound becoming permanently implanted into his senses.

_Sirens…_

An ambulance was now present as the scene. He could feel his pulse rate increasing and his breath turning into rapid gasps. Flashing lights blinded him and he felt his body being dragged through the throngs of people watching on like it were some bloody rock concert. Yamato then felt like a cold sandstorm had hit him. He had been so caught up in the situation that it hadn't hit him that it was still pouring sheets of rain from the previous night. Odaiba was still immersed in the gloomy weather – his mood being true the weather itself. His arms folded to keep his body evaporating heat.

As he advanced into the middle inner-working of the whole commotion a familiar voice screeched over the hectic atmosphere. "LET HIM THROUGH!"

The media turned to face his direction, but he dodged them as he headed to where the voice screamed from and saw Kanji looking at him with an expression he had never seen on him before – pure frightening panic. Somehow he remained composed, but there was no denying that something had shifted his emotions. His manager handed him a coffee that warmed his hands but he didn't have the strength and appetite to take a sip. His stomach was doing somersaults of anxiety. He caught sight of his fellow other members of the band. Takahashi was there, pale as snow as he gripped onto his coffee tightly in a dazed like state. Yutaka was furiously badmouthing the media through fierce teeth and taking swipes at all the cameras that blocked his way. But somehow Yamato could distinguish in his anguish cries that he had tears on his cheeks combining with the raindrops. There was a dramatic movement when he threw his the hot contents of his styrofoam coffee cup onto one of the news reporters. Kanji was already taking control and getting a hold of him.

Takahashi was now standing beside him and shaking. "What happened?" Yamato questioned but wasn't entirely looking forward for his answer. Before his shaken up friend was about to respond he then saw it…

Two paramedics carried a fragile unconscious body to the vehicle. He saw blood. He saw a lot. And he couldn't take it anymore. He was hyperventilating, but in a split second it felt as if he couldn't breathe. It felt as if it took much energy to take a single breath. He stood frozen in place as they diligently placed his body into the vehicle and shut the door. He heard someone screaming.

"Get a grip. Hold yourself together, man," Yutaka said, shaking his shoulders. It was strange being advised that from someone who had quite the temper himself. "You're yelling."

It had been _him_ yelling?

"He's dead," he replied bluntly. "Akira…he's dead."

"He's not. Well…not that I know off…we don't have any confirmation," Kanji had joined the duo now, arms intertwined under each other as he watched the ambulance speed off to the closest hospital. His voice was in a decibel lower to his normal speaking volume but has his usual authoritative twang to how he spoke, "Go home. I want you boys home."

"But Akira! We have to go to the hospital," Yamato objected. "We can't-"

"You all need to go home and stay calm. They won't allow all of us there. I'll go," he said firmly as if he was closing a negation deal between two major lead companies. "I'm going there now. I'll dial up each one of you when I get updated. You all need your rest. Now scram!"

Yamato didn't know whether to admire his manager or to sock him in the gut. But he spoke logically and he knew that even how harsh Kanji could be, he always did was best for the band. Yutaka growled, storming away while taking even more swings at people who crossed his way. Yamato numbly took out his mobile to call another cab when Kanji slapped his back. "Takahashi will take you home."

The ride back where he came from was silent. His clothing stuck to him like glue but didn't bother to think about it. "What the hell happened, Takahashi."

The driver was silent for a bit, coming up with the correct words to say. "He was high. He rang me up," the guitarist cleared his throat. "And then he starting mumbling words I couldn't comprehend. Something about jumping off…suicide. I don't know. Just from that thought of action…it scared the fuck out of me. I just knew I had to go to his apartment as soon as possible."

"And then?"

He straightened his posture and said, "I was already in the car driving – you know how far it is where I live – I was terrified I'd be too late. And then…when I arrived I see his mangled body being showered on by the rain. It was devastating. I thought, like you did…that he was dead."

Yamato felt glad that it wasn't he who had seen the visual imagery. If it had been him he was pretty sure that the sight of his friend on the cement ground would haunt him for years.

"I checked his pulse and rang up Kanji first…then you guys. Took a lot of common sense to finally get around calling the paramedics. It was sort of Yutaka's fault that the media bombarded…he hasn't been concealing his identity lately and all they had to do was stay outside of his house and wait for him to come out."

"I see," he responded. "Anyway, Takahashi, it's okay to drop me off here. If you go any further…it'll be out of your way."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay man." Yamato opened his door and stepped into the wintry whether once again. He waved and thanked the bassist, beginning to run through the rain. Perhaps if he got home, had a shower and woke up…everything would be the same…nothing would change. Akira would be fine. Perhaps. The clouds thundered over him and lethargy finally got to him causing to stop running at the swift pace. His large steps turned small and it took him ten minutes to get back to his apartment.

He was then greeted with a new image.

She was sitting on his brick fence, one leg on top of the each other with a transparent umbrella protecting her from the brutal weather. She had an indescribable look on her face. She landed lightly on her feet and they met by the entrance, putting up her hand higher so that he was under the umbrella also. "You're soaked," she said.

"I am," he said, azure eyes filled with sadness. For once, it was easy to read him. He looked so lost and defeated and the weak smile he gave her dissolved into nothingness. "Let's go in."

They sauntered slowly up the staircases till they met his level and ambled on. He didn't know how she had come to find out about the situation and he really didn't care. Nevertheless, she answered his unasked question. "My alarm is the local radio. I heard the news at 6am. I thought you'd need the company."

He nodded, jaw tightening as he pulled out his house keys from his jean's pocket.

"Is he dead?"

He paused. He glanced down at her ambiguously then focused back on his task, successfully unlocking the door. "No, he isn't. Kanji said he'd tell us if anything drastic like that occurs."

It was her turn to nod. She slipped off her shoes and followed his wet footpaths on the wooden floors. After taking a brisk hot shower and pulling on a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved jumper he scanned the living room where he had left her to see that she wasn't there. He almost believed that she had left but discarded the thought aside when he saw his music room's door gaping open.

"You're still here."

"You thought I'd leave?"

"Don't you have some conference to go to or something? You really don't have to be here. It'll all be fine," he said with clear uncertainty.

"You won't be fine though," she stated. It wasn't a guess or assumption. She knew. He didn't know whether it was a good thing or not. He felt a bit uncomfortable with her knowing more personal things about him now.

He didn't answer. With a sudden movement she slid off the stool so that he could sit. He didn't protest and took a seat in front of his white pianoforte. Dim light filtered through the window. Even though it was morning, the weather had taken away most of the light of the day. His fingers touched the keys in a numb mesmerised state. So numbing that it felt as if it was engulfing him, taking over. Akira. Before he knew it he was playing a tune that he had heard long ago…

"_Ishida, you are dismissed."_

_Yamato was glad to finally get out of the detention room he had been attending after school for the whole week. It was his last day to do so. Actually, truth be told, it was Taichi who had caused the trouble. Taichi always had the knack for being reckless and wanting to capture Mimi's attention. He thought that the best way to do this was to initiate a food-fight in the school cafeteria. Of course, being dubbed as Taichi's best friend had also earned him to be punished even if he hadn't taken part in the food wastage. Taichi, on the other hand, would have to suffer another four more weeks worth of detention. The soccer coach wasn't impressed. But Mimi sure had a laugh out of at it. _

_It felt good to finally achieve his weekday afternoons back. It meant more time for music and practising with his band. So far it consisted of one of his good friends – Takahashi – whom was an excellent guitarist. Takahashi sought out one of Odaiba's most hot-headed students with the most infamous reputation – Yutaka. Albeit he was a badass, when Yamato witnessed his drumming he knew there was talent there. Actually, it had been Takahashi who had pulled both band members together. So far it was all fighting between Yutaka and him with Takahashi being the referee. Somehow, he knew there was something in their new band. While his younger brother was physically active in basketball, he was the one that was musically inclined._

_As he walked through the empty corridors of his high school he heard a faint melody being strung into the air ever so wistfully. Instead of strolling out of the gates of his school, he found himself turning the opposite direction and allowing the melody to drift him to its destination. He stopped walking and closed his eyes. The frilly notes were perfectly played and the crescendos and decrescendos were played precisely. He peeked, concentrating through the glass door that led into a small music room._

_The person in there had jet-black hair and glasses bridging on his the top of his nose. There was a glint of gold from the boy's breast-pocket. Yamato concluded that it was a gold badge…therefore it meant that the person playing the piano was his senior._

_He continued to listen to the unidentified performance. The older student was amazing. Yamato saw that his eyesight wasn't focused on the sheet music in front of him, but staring fixedly out of the window into the deep blue cloudless sky. It was as if he was sucking in the beauty of nature and portraying it into the joys of his music he produced. _

_And then Yamato waited for the particular phrase to pass. When it did, he gasped. Yamato had taken piano lessons when he was much younger and had familiarised himself with the piece. He recalled that even his own teacher couldn't play that bar so pristinely. Altogether, he had never heard the piece played from this angle before. The senior played it so differently with flares of distinct uniqueness. He would either flow like water for one minute then would come tumbling down into brisk vivace tempos. It was if he were playing it for someone…_

_The pianist stood up, pivoted on his seat and stared as Yamato applauded him, sliding the door open to greet him. "You play well," Yamato complimented. _

"_Thanks," he said a bit shyly but also in pride. _

"_What's your name?"_

"_I'm Akira," he said automatically, regarding the younger boy curiously. "Why?"_

"_Would you like to join my band?" The pianist stared at him astounded._

"That's how we met," he said, remembering every detail vividly. He didn't know why it was so important that he let Sora know this, but the words had slipped out of his mouth before he could prevent disguising the story. It was then that he now knew what he was playing on the piano. He was playing the piece that Akira played when they first met.

He slammed the lid of the pianoforte down, causing the sound to echo throughout his whole apartment. His shoulders hunched as he stared at his hands and began to shake. He had been crying. He started chocking in sobs. The thought of losing Akira was deteriorating him. Hell, he didn't even know the details. _Was he clinging onto life? Would he make it? _

Sora's body wrapped around him in an embrace, rocking him backwards and forwards. All the negativities were building up inside him now – so much that it was wearing and breaking him down. "We all knew about it. We knew about his condition…we didn't do anything about it," he wept, feeling foolish as she caressed him. His mother had never done that to him ever since he was four. "It's my fault. If I-"

"It's not," she soothed. "Yamato, stop blaming yourself."

"You don't know how it is…"

"I am aware that I don't know about half the things you've been through. But I know how it's like to lose someone, so don't give up hope when you're not even sure he's died yet," she said convincingly. She let him burry himself into her coat. She cradled him in her arms. "What happened the other night, Yamato? What's happening between us?"

"I don't know," he said honestly.

"You _really_ kissed me this time. And I…I kissed you back."

Her rosy scent blended with the smell of rain, sedating his senses. He then looked up at her to catch that she was intently gazing down at him as well, large brown eyes studying him. A lump formed in his throat. He couldn't stand it any longer.

A tumble of emotion took over his thoughts and the next thing he knew, he had carried her on top of his piano and was pressing his body over hers, kissing her neck. He tore off her coat and held her frame, lips finding her mouth caressing it. She kissed back, deepening every time. Her long white skirt was up to her ankles while her legs dangled in the air from half lying down on the piano. His breathing was now sharp and ragged and his dilated eyes stared at her passionately. Her cheeks were flushing pink and lips parted as he let his fingers unravel her hair and pull the auburn tresses down. Their eyes locked intensely. He began to pull off her top.

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Rays of light dispersed into his room. It was evident that the storm had passed. His body ached and he could make out a fragrance familiar to rose petals. And then it dawned over him. He suddenly sat up and perceived that he was sitting on his bed…naked. It was sadistically amusing that he had actually thought that there was something going between them…he had begun to care for her. And now he had ruined the opportunity to actually begin something true.

He turned around the opposite direction to see if still lying down next to him.

She wasn't.

In Sora's place was only her ring.

He blinked, but found nothing in his room appearing or reappearing. He sat up in a ball, staring at the gaping bedroom door. He buried his head into his hands. What a mistake.

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**(a/n)** It's the easiest for me to write when I've got the house to myself. Since I already had written half of this chapter, I thought I'd might as well finish it and take advantage of being home alone. Also, I think I'll be too drained if I update later on this week (fortnight) – school's already bombed me with loads of work already. I really didn't think I'd have this chapter up already. Thanks for your support! The next chp should be in the next fortnight or something and will be longer (since this was pretty short). Take care!

Flipstahhz

Ps. I don't really think a lot of you will like this chapter. But this needed to be put in…for the other events to occur.

Only this chapter is (sort of) **M,** so I'm not changing the whole rating for the entire piece.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Written 28.o2.o8

_**I heart **_ _SpiffyCookie, nickygirl, Phoenixe825, SkuAg, little0maggie, the-lionness, AnimePinkCess, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, jerseygrl90, Yamora Love n Friendship, Waltz Turner & Raspberrycharm __**for still reading this story!**_

**(a/n)** Another quick update! I'll reply to your reviews in 1-2 days. Sorry! 

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Fifteen**

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**It was raining **sunlight as he walked the broad footpath – no longer was it a gloomy season. Yamato took a deep sigh, absorbing the heat. Even though it wasn't particularly as hot as it could be, he was satisfied with every single degree the weather went up. It was a great change from the frostbiting cold that he, and the rest of Japan, had been engulfed in.

When he had spotted the _Yuki Rehabilitation Centre_, he scampered inside the building and slipped in between the sliding doors before they closed. He strolled down to the ward he was accustomed to and knocked on the glass window of the nurse's station.

A woman with grey hair and a pair of spectacles turned around to face his direction. She got up from her chair to meet his acquaintance. "Why Mr. Ishida…isn't it pleasant to see you this fine afternoon. How may I help you?" When she had uttered the last word, she had lightly prodded his chest with the other side of her pen she had been holding.

"I'm here to see-"

"I know, Mr. Ishida. You've been coming to see him every Thursday. He's at the physio right now, but you can wait in his room. Go straight ahead," the nurse's lips turned upwards into a friendly smile before turning to her paperwork.

He bowed his head in thanks before going to the patient's room. Once he had arrived there he couldn't help but peek over the new box he hadn't seen from his prior visits. A simper formed on his face when he saw that it was his friend's keyboard. It was a good sign.

"Yamato, you're here," a voice disrupted the silence. "I thought you'd come."

"Akira," he welcomed, pacing to his side to help out the nurse, whom had been leading his friend back from his physiotherapy session, to sit down. The crutches were put aside, but as usual the nurse didn't leave them alone but stood around to listen to their conversation. The keyboardist had earned himself a special ever since the not-so-good incident. Yamato was pretty much used to the nurse listening on to their conversations now, so it didn't really matter. The nurse's role there was practically to prevent Akira from doing another idiotic thing like that again.

From the incident there was a possibility that his ex-band mate might have been given sentences for the founding of illicit drugs in his bloodstream. But after a more thorough investigation, the court ruled out it considering the main reason for his actions were more or less related to clinical depression and anxiety.

He observed the keyboardist. Yamato had honestly thought that one of his closest friends would die. Every time he saw him, he couldn't help but feel like it was a miracle that God – if there even was one - had kept him alive. And that was a big thing for him considering Yamato had never been religious.

From the suicide attempt he was more or less getting better now. His residential situation at the rehab was to strengthen and relearning how to walk on his two feet again (after dislocating and breaking a few bones from the fall); and also to fight his history for substance abuse. Akira was gaining back some weight, but the thing that still caught Yamato's eye was that he was still ghostly pale. Not only that, Akira was now suffering from relapses and cravings.

Yamato took a seat on Akira's bed. When he was about to string up a conversation his eyes diverted to a blur of yellow besides his friend. "Sunflowers?"

Akira chortled. "A guy has to have his favourite flower."

The room was pretty bland looking and dull, but the sight of the flowers carefully arrange in the vase was enough to liven it up.

"Why sunflowers?"

"I don't know. I used to have a lot of them where I was raised," Akira replied. "They always made me feel happy. They're so bright and calming. How bout you? You've got to have your favourite flower, even if it is you…"

"Orchards. Blue orchards," he clarified without a second thought. He then frowned when he realised what he had said. He never had a favourite flower, but when she had said they were hers…he kindled and found their unique beauty.

Not wanting to emphasise on her any longer, his gaze studied the patient again. Yamato was glad with the Akira's progress. He was both physically and mentally healing well. Even the course of their conversation was actually leading somewhere and wasn't as blank and incoherent as it had been. But he wasn't going to deny the various times he caught the keyboardist's body shake violently. Right now, it was subtle…but he still could see it.

Akira knew what he was observing. "It's withdrawal symptoms," Akira laughed bitterly. He was a lot talkative now, "Sometimes I just want it to stop. It's hard. It's much easier prowling the streets and getting a next hit than dealing with this. You saw me before. It was worse when I was admitted here – I threw up a lot that the amount of water I lost was lethal. I literally wanted to slit my throat to stop myself from shaking."

"If you ever mention any sort of suicidal attempt…I'll kill you myself," Yamato growled with a threatening look. There was a little giggle. Yamato had almost forgotten that Akira's nurse special was still in the room.

"Don't worry…that's why I'm here. I'm here to prevent him from doing anything like that."

"I wasn't going to," Akira muttered, sticking his tongue out. By now the nurse and him had formed a brotherly-sisterly relationship and were used to teasing each other. It was sort of therapeutic. Perhaps one of the reasons why Akira had turned to drugs was because he was always alone and one every checked up on him.

His parents had passed away when he was quite young and he had no other siblings like Takeru always checking his back. That was partly why Takahashi, Yutaka and him blamed themselves for what had happened. Lately each one of them would visit. Yamato even caught Yutaka bring in baked scones. The lead singer wouldn't let the drummer hear the end of it – even though Yamato already knew that they were actually made by Yutaka's mother.

"At least I'm not as bad as the person in the room next to me. He bragged that he would have 10 _Asahis_ a day. I mean, if I wanted to kill myself I would rather do it in a quick way than slowly like that," he described.

"That's not funny," Yamato sighed. "Sometimes your jokes can be so humourlessly terrible. Like now, for instance."

"It was just sarcasm. I wasn't intending to be _funny_."

Funny.

It was a strange word. But the word cemented into his mind, trailing off the particular thing they were talking about. The words and tune of _My Funny Valentine_ stung his ears. He almost closed his eyes to shut himself from thinking of it…of her. Who was he kidding? For the past months there wasn't a nostalgic day that the image or thought of her diminished from his mind.

"Who knows," Akira commented cynically. "I'll fight these cravings. But once I'm out of rehab there's still a chance that I'm going to go back to the pattern."

"You won't. She won't let you," the nurse slid into the conversation with a smirk.

"Kayla?" Yamato guessed. The nurse confirmed his question with a brief nod.

Kayla was practically Akira's main source to his recovery. She was Akira's highschool lover. They broke up during their senior years because she disagreed and didn't believe that she should become a musician because it would lead to a dead end – blatantly she was wrong. When she had found out about Akira's case through the media (which had finally caused a good purpose), she had rushed back from Kyoto to Odaiba. It has been years since they hadn't kept contact – and she only had Mimi's telephone number from their high school. Then Mimi distributed Yamato's phone number to her…and after so many years of not keeping contact, she ran back to Akira and was there to look after him throughout it all as being the main support the keyboardist had.

The positive outcome from Akira's attempt was that she was brought back into his world. They still cared for each other. Now that he thought about it, Yamato was really certain that the sunflowers given to him were from her. It was stupid because then Yamato figured out that Akira's breakup with her triggered his substance-abusing addiction. Hopefully everything would go uphill in Akira's life now. Hopefully.

"So how's all the recording been going? You usually pop in before physio…you must be busy," Akira said.

"You could say so. It's just harder going solo now. I'm used to being with a band. Being on my own feels like singing without a voice," he said. "It's strange. I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

It was true. Akira had chosen to leave the band to catch up with time and have a new slice of life with Kayla. Yutaka didn't really care where the band went. He only really continued playing with them for the years was for the money. Now that he had accumulated the money, he didn't care less. Whereas Takahashi took this opportunity to propose to his childhood lover by finally settle down in his hometown. After all the years he'd have to tear himself from her to go on tour with the band, he was glad to throw in his towel.

"You're talented, Yamato. You've got the skills, charisma and looks. You're going to get somewhere…you don't need us."

"How about you, Akira? You could play one of Berman's difficult pieces while stoned. That's what you call talent, right there. Not that I'm influencing you to get high again," Yamato shook his head.

"Still…you'll get somewhere. You will. I know," Akira said with full confidence. "Do it for all of us. Do it for yourself…I still can't believe you're going to give your rock roots a rest and convert into becoming a jazz musician."

"It's been my inner calling for a while," the blond haired man admitted. "Kanji still hasn't gotten over it either."

"How has that ol' man been up to?"

"Same old. He's as strict as ever. Stricter than he's ever been because I'm his sole focus now," he flinched.

"He didn't want to get you out of his hands yet. He hasn't fully finished taming you," Akira chuckled.

"I still miss the band. You guys will always be my boys, you know?"

"Of course. But it was inevitable. This was bound to happen. We were bound to separate eventually. Life's like that. Things come about when you least expect them to. It's unpredictable."

"God, I hate that word," he said, laughing at his inward joke. "Anything relating to predictability in fact."

"What?"

"Nothing," Yamato neglected the question. "You're just too whipped with Kayla right now."

The nurse laughed, "I double that."

"It won't be easy. But I know, you'll get out of here soon. You can get through this. I assure you will."

"Thanks Yamato."

After a few more quirks in their friendly discussion, Yamato became conscious that it was time to depart. With an impulsive salute, they exchanged good-byes and Yamato was once again feeling the sun's rays tickling his skin.

A lot had happened in the couple of months that had passed. His career pathway had taken a peculiar change, his grandparents weren't in Odaiba now – but visiting some rural parts of Japan, one of Takeru's novels was nominated for best sci-fi, Jyou aced his exams and _she_…well, he didn't know. He only saw the occasional news report how her label was doing well overseas. The franchises in Japan were yet to opened. It was rumoured that it would be held next week – not that he cared.

"RETARD!"

His head spun to the direction where the insult came from and saw the idiot.

"You weren't meant to respond to that…but I knew you would since you _are_ a retard."

His teeth was set in one of his typical goofy grins, his eyes sparking in amusement as he waved his hand vigorously in the air from where he was standing. Yamato couldn't help but smile as he jogged up to his brunette friend.

"It's been a while, man. Where have you been, doofus?" Taichi Kamiya said. "You've been snubbing me off for the past months. I haven't seen you since…how is he?"

"I've been quite busy…nothing new. Akira? He's doing a lot better. I just went to see him, actually."

"Good stuff," Taichi replied. "You know…I finished early today. You look like you have some free time to spare – so let's catch up."

"Sure thing."

"Billiards?"

"Okay. I'll kick your ass."

There were times in both of their lives that they were to busy with the real world to notice the amounts of time they'd be apart from each other. There would be no contact whatsoever…but when they were together it was as if no time had passed. They meshed and clicked easily like that.

The pair settled for a bar on the corner. It thankfully wasn't crowded with too many people because it was still broad daylight. If it were in the evening they wouldn't have space to breathe…or a billiard table in that case. Yamato bought a couple of beers and handed on to Taichi who was already concentrating competiveily at the game.

By the end, Taichi had triumphantly won and repeated 'owned' so many times to Yamato that he felt as if his head was going to explode. Since he was 'owned,' Taichi said that he owed him another beer. They took seats at the bar. As Yamato watched Taichi swig down his third beer, he pondered the possibility that Taichi would go into rehab if he took even more. His best friend had always been a heavy drinker.

"So…how's it been with Sora? You still got that petty game going on?"

He scratched his head. He hadn't gotten around to telling Taichi that they weren't talking anymore. It was more that he knew that he would open his big mouth and tell Mimi. He purchased another beer.

"What's going on?" Taichi recited.

"She's not speaking to me anymore," he said honestly.

"Why?" Taichi asked.

"I don't know," Yamato said uncomfortably, taking a few sips just to be greeted with Taichi's curious eyes. "Fine…well..i don't know it just happened."

"You can't just _suddenly_ stop talking to someone. What happened? I really thought that you were going to get with her."

"Excuse me?"

"C'mon Matt. You're single. She's single. Add a fake pseudo marriage…and kapeesh! Just admit it…you like her…I know you. Plus, you're smiling now."

"Shut-up," he grunted in counter-attack. But Taichi was right. Somehow when he spoke everything made a bit more sense. "Fine…maybe I do. But I don't…you know?"

"That's gotta be the most stuffed up confession I've ever heard," Taichi guffawed. "Really…what happened? Have you at least made out?"

"Well…we did go over the line. It wasn't even for the fake-marriage purpose," Yamato conceded.

"You kissed? So? What's the big deal?" Taichi said, but then his eyes widened when he saw from Yamato's look that it wasn't just a kiss that confused him. "You're kidding me?"

"I told you! It just happened," Yamato said, feeling flustered as he turned to his beer to avoid facing him.

"Mimi said-"

"If Mimi knew…why the hell did you even bother asking?" he spluttered.

"I only heard that the both of you weren't talking…I didn't know you went that far. Fuck," Taichi cursed, slamming his glass on the counter causing the bartender to give him a domineering withering look. "Now it makes sense. No wonder Sora's been talking to Mimi a lot more lately. I really didn't think you had it in you, you dog."

"I wasn't a virgin, Tai," Yamato rolled his eyes. "At least I don't sleep around in other people's apartments!"

Taichi laughed heartedly.

"Fine. Her. I didn't know she had it in her. Don't have to get so pissed off about it. I doubt you regretted it," Taichi said. "Did you?"

"No," Yamato finally said. "_But_ we leaped too many steps ahead even if I were to consider doing anything like that with her. And no, Tai. I didn't force her to if you're thinking that."

"Sure you didn't."

"Then quit being darn sarcastic," Yamato grumbled kicking his friend. "Anyway, she hasn't contacted me since. I've been ringing her up, leaving messages…done practically everything. But she still avoids me."

"What do you expect? She's the same as you. You don't even know if you really like her or not. She's confused, Yamato," the brunette spoke. "I've told you so many times that if you hurt her I'll kick you in the balls…something amongst those lines...but you've both screwed up on this one."

"If we hadn't slept together…it would be normal. Now it's just all complicated and I can't stop thinking about her. It's like I've got a new acquired OCD problem," he said. He roughly ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Why does it have to be so complicated?"

"You like her, that's why. Just admit it."

"Well…I never really did hate her."

"So let's just say…how long have you contacted her?"

"The week after what happened," Yamato said.

"So it was just a week? You didn't bother to keep or at least _try_ and make a bigger effort to talk to her? From what I see it as…it's a two way road. You both are avoiding each other."

"I've been busy-"

"Bullshit. And so has she. But both of you are still effected about it. If Sora's still talking to Mimi over the phone about concerns and you're obviously still dwelling on her…there's gotta be something there," the brunette headed man spoke matter-of-factly. "She's the only girl that you've talked about with so much respect, Yamato. I already know you really like her."

"If you think it's that easy…what do you propose I do?"

"I'm just saying…at least make some more effort. Screw your career, for once. Sometimes it's the little things in life that matters the most."

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**(a/n)** I don't know if these frequent updates are a good or bad thing. I'm still used to juggling three stories at once, but with only this story to update I'm always stuck in the same train of thought and have to get all these descriptions down before I forget them. The bad thing is that if I keep continuing like this, this story will be over soon. I've estimated that there are only 5 chapters to go now. It's quite sad to know that this story will end soon because this story has pretty much been one of my favourites to write.

I think the stress of starting this school year has also contributed to these updates. Maybe my inner mind wants to finish this story (so it'll be one less thing to think about) before getting really into this schooling year.

Again, thanks for reading this story thus far. If there are any questions, feel free to ask them. Sora will be coming back for the next chapter. Take care and heart

flipstahhz

PS. I thought this would be a long chapter because the content was a lot to cover, but surprisingly it turned out short and didn't expand as much as I had expected it to. Sorry again!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Written o5.o3.o8

_**To **__SkuAg, jerseygrl90, little0maggie, Phoenixe825, nickygirl, AnimePinkCess, SpiffyCookie, TheWitchLady, Yamora Love n Friendship, Mrs. Radcliffe 13 and Waltz Turner __**thanks for reviewing!**_

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Sixteen**

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**Chandeliers draped** **elegantly** from the high ceiling, sparkling diamonds around the posh environment. It was ironic considering what was being launched that night was relating to fame, glamour, wealth and fashion. He never had seen himself getting used to these extravagant events, but there he stood next to the crystal punch bowl consolidating with fashion critics, the not-so-endearing media, photographers, models and workers involved with the recently developed designer label.

Yet, _somehow_, she had summoned him there.

With someone pressing the bell to his apartment, he had turned the knob of his front door to discover a single envelope on his doormat. When he delved out the contents he found an invitation dropping into his bare hands. It was an invitation to the various franchise commencements around several locations in Japan for 'Soar to the Sky Designs.'

So there he was amongst the guests and attired in a crisp tuxedo looking as sharp and well groomed as ever. He even had gelled his hair back for the darn occasion. He rolled his eyes when a little cluster of models bat their lashes at him and collapsed into a fit of squealing giggles as they ambled slowly by. He caught a waft of their strong perfume. None of them had the scent of roses.

A quartet of strings played in a miniature stage besides a circular dance floor where dancing men accompanied frilly pastel dresses, faded in with the exuberant music the strings vividly produced. Unfortunately, unlike the men on the dance floor, he had no company. Taichi and Mimi had gone out of town to visit Mimi's parents. Yamato had caught the hint that Taichi was finally stepping it up in their relationship to finally gain the courage to meet his in-laws.

By being alone, Yamato silently gathered the reasons in his mind to why Sora had spontaneously invited him. Could he be forgiven? Then again, why had it been his fault? It was two to tango, right? But on the other hand, was it a sign that she had gotten over it and it was time to move around the obstacle? Or did she just want him at the particular function to ease off the media for her?

Two of the violins in the quartet pierced shrilly pitches and at that instance he caught her walking down the marble staircase. She glowed, wearing a set or pearls around her neck and a long silver flowing dress that flounced with every step she took in her usual perfect grace. But what shocked her was the length of hair. It was true she hadn't seen her for almost three months now, but he couldn't help but feel astonished by her change of appearance. She had snipped her long tresses that her auburn locks were now touching her bare shoulders. The photographers were already on their job, snapping pictures from every direction. She remained composed and calm as he saw the buzzes of reporters dash her direction. She seemed so surreal and unreachable.

Before he knew it, his polished leather shoes had hauled himself into the crowd around her. He was in a dazed like state as he watched her converse effortlessly with the publicity she was dealing with. It was like she had transited and changed so much over the months he hadn't kept in contact with her. Or perhaps she already had this self-esteem and confidence? Perhaps she was pulling off an act. Like pulling off the act that she was his wife. Every one pulled on acts these days, but somehow it astounded him as he watched her. She had always been a mystery to him. She seemed further away. The more he had gotten to know her, the more answers he needed to find out. But in the end, he hadn't found them.

She looked stunning. Not beautiful. _Stunning_

Why was it now that he had noticed it? The way she smiled when she spoke, the way her eyes danced in amusement, the way she held herself…so confidently…so strongly. But deep inside, he knew that she also held another person…someone he had seen a glimpse of…but still hadn't really been able to know. And he wanted to. Hell, he wanted to. Taichi was right. She had been the only woman who really had gained his respect. She hadn't indulged herself and taken advantage of his wealth and fame. She worked for it herself…she didn't need his assistance. She was honest. When she didn't like his music, she admitted it and offered critique. When she loved it, you could tell as well. From the tiny simper visible on her lips, and the way she hummed softly the tune.

Then someone smoothly took her hand. And it wasn't him. Was he jealous?

He watched the man ring an arm around her and saw the small squirming movement of her thin frame, but her smile was still there. Yes, he was. She threw her head back and laughed that contagious laugh of hers. Was this her intention…to make him suffer envy - because she was doing well. It seemed he wasn't quite forgiven. It seemed that he was really jealous.

Yamato gave a long sigh, pivoting on his heel and helping himself to another glass of punch. As he spilled his second scoop from the ladle he felt someone's presence besides him. "Alcoholic much?"

"Might as well enjoy free booze. Whether it even be in the smallest quantity," he said. He got a closer glimpse at the woman standing before him. Her lips were titled in smirk, arms folded as she stared up at him. Who would have known…"I thought it was you. It would have been scary if you were someone else because it would seem that I was flirtin-"

Before diligently putting his glass on the table, he enveloped the lady in a tight embrace cutting off what she had to say. He let go of her, still holding onto her arms as he got a better look. She was as beautiful as ever, scarlet dress sticking to her every curve and long wavy hair glimmering under the diamond-like lighting. She simpered brightly at him. "Catherine!"

"Hello to you too!" she declared.

Recovering from the sight, he let go of her and he couldn't help but grin like a maniac. "How are you? You should have told me that you were coming! I could have made arrangements-"

"That's an insult. Have you forgotten I'm a model? Sky designs accepted me to be their model when I applied in France. They wanted me to be here for the launch," it was her time to cut him off with her explanation. She continued, "Plus, I did contact Hiroaki and he offered to pick me up from the airport. I've heard you've been quite busy lately, so I didn't want to disturb you with you work. Did I answer all your questions?"

"Yeah, it all makes sense now," he chuckled. His heart rate began to decrease. He really hadn't expected Catherine to be there.

"I couldn't believe when Hiraoki told my your band separated. You've practically grown up with those boys. I remember when I had a major crush on Yutaka," she laughed.

"I never really understood that. Of all men in this world…it had to be that ill-tempered idiot," he brutally shook his head. "It's a disgrace."

"So you're here because you're married to Sora, right? You know, I'm still pretty hurt that you didn't invite me to your wedding," Catherine said. She looked down at his hand, frowning flickering on her facial expression. "Why aren't you wearing your ring? Have you even noticed all my colleagues trying to hit on you? Sora-"

"I don't know what you've heard…but," he lowered his voice and spoke into her ear, "we aren't. It just something to get my grandparents' off my back."

She stepped away, startled. "But the picture of you in that magazine. Both of you looked so happy."

"Can we not talk about it," he replied in discontentment. "Maybe you should just leave me here…and go mingle with some male model."

"Yamato," she said. "She's been looking at our direction for the moment I started talking to you. You need to get together. I don't know what are you talking about…but it's obvious there's something between us."

"There _isn't_," he insisted. "Maybe it's better if you leave."

"You're good like that, aren't you?" she glared. "I've already gotten over it, Yamato. You should too. Really, you should. We're grown up now, for goodness sake! I had the worse end of the stick…don't forget that, will you?"

"I get it, I get it," he muttered. "But Cath, sometimes-"

Just in time Sora was standing a few paces away from him. A trail of photographers followed her lead, taking multiple shots for the front page. To his surprise she marched determinedly up a step and planted an unanticipated kiss on his cheek. It stung where she had placed her lips, probably because it felt so untrue and bitter. Catherine watched them in awe.

Sora let her arm go around his waist and said so quietly that only he could hear through her white teeth. "I don't know why you're here. I don't know what you're trying to prove…the paparazzi still believe we're married. So if you want a darn show, here's your darn show. Leave after this."

When the rate of most of the snapshots had declined, she flung herself off of him and headed towards the other side of the function room. He blinked, unsure what had just happened. Catherine gave him a shrug. For the second time that night, his feet were moving on instinct without his approval, chasing after her.

Through the blur, he swore he caught Yolie's guilty face. He caught up to the designer, taking her wrist and running out of the reception whilst ignoring her cries of objection. He tugged her into the nearest room he could find, shutting the door behind him and locking it. His back was against the door, heaving breaths of air. It was then he realised the disgusted look on her face. He wanted to hit himself when he observed that he had taken her into the men's toilets.

"What the hell was that?" he interrogated her.

"You shouldn't even be here in the first place! I didn't give you permission to be here!" she instantaneously counter argued back.

"Then who did?" he barked back. In timing, Yolie's face registered in his mind. "Oh…it was your manager."

"Yolie?" she blinked. "What makes you think that I'll believe you? You personally came here to ruin my night!"

"I'm _sorry_!" he yelled, voice echoing against the tiled walls. He never projected his voice like that…but it was the only way he thought possible to get her to hear him out. "I really am, okay? Are you happy? You're right. I'm wrong. That's the end of that. Can't we just be how we normally were now? Our normal relationship."

"Do you even consider us having a _normal_ relationship?" she snorted. "Really, Yamato. We never had anything together in the first place! You confuse me. Sometimes I wish we never had met! You don't even _know _me."

He stood speechless for a second. He couldn't reply straight away because he knew she was true. He knew she worked at a bar, enjoyed jazz, was a fashion designer…but what else did he know? He didn't know how she was brought up. He didn't know what her favourite cartoon character was? He didn't know what type of damn wine she liked.

"See, you don't," she said, taking his silence as a confirmation.

"Let's start from scratch then. My grandparents are leaving soon so I think we should-"

"You're so selfish, you know that?" she said furiously, stomping her foot. "I should have expected that to be the reason. You just came here because your grandparents needed more evidence that you're married!"

He didn't bother to repeat that it had been Yolie whom had given the approval to come. Right now, that wasn't his main concern. Plus, he already knew she had already chosen to not believe him. He had never seen her this furious in the short time he had known her. So he waited for her to calm down. Eventually she began to speak up again.

His eyes were now fixed at the tip of his shoes, finding the best words to express the awkward situation, "The night we slept together...we went over the boundaries. I stuffed up."

"We both did," she admitted. Sora looked tired. It was then that he saw that the make-up she had brushed on didn't completely disguise the dark bags under her eyes. "Tell me what you really want, Yamato. What do you want from me? Honestly?"

"I want you to trust me. That's all I want. At least as a friend. You can't just say we had no relationship at all, Sora," he spoke.

"How can I trust you? I turn my back on you, the next thing I know you're getting along a bit too well with one of my models!"

"How about you?"

"Really, Yamato. If you knew a teensy bit about my career you'd know he's one of my sale's assistances! And he's gay, if you wanted to know!"

"Clearly he's hitting on you!" he protested.

"Oh, so what do you call whispering in a girl's ear?" she inquired critically. He then recalled how he leaned over to say something only Catherine could here. She was complaining about Catherine. Somehow her tone felt like a slap on the face.

"She's not even related to this!" he spat.

"Then tell me!" she said. "You're so secretive yourself. You want to be honest! Just tell me! I already know she's your ex-girlfriend just from looking at you!"

"Are you jealous?" he asked, but inwardly wanted to dunk his head in freezing water when he knew that it was the wrong indecisive words to say. She was glaring him daggers.

He gave another sigh, being accustomed to doing quite a lot of them that night, advancing towards her. "Calm down, Sora." He stopped when he saw that she had flattened her back against the wall and actually looked scared of him. He felt saddened. He thought he had been the only one suffering from this since he had though she had let go of what happened already. But evidently she was still hurt. He should have been the one hurt when he saw the ring lying on the bed instead of her.

"Sora," he said her name. "Trust me. She wasn't my ex-girlfriend."

"Then who was she? How do you know her?"

"She's the reason why my mother filed for the divorce," he finally said.

"She's a slut? I still don't get it," Sora said in bemusement. "What do you mean? She would've been a baby when-"

"You're thinking wrong, Sora," he shook his head, chuckling grimly. He paused. "Catherine's my half sister. We went on a holiday to visit my grandparents…and well…she's sort of the result from my father cheating."

"Oh my god, Yamato. I'm sorry…I didn't mean to do that-"

"It's okay," he interrupted. He just wanted to get out of there. It appeared to be the normal routine between them. He had revealed another of his own secrets, while she hadn't. His throat became dry. He hadn't even told Taichi about Catherine's real identity. Anything in relation to the divorce always brought bitter memories. He had been awake during the early mornings when his parents would be screeching at each other on the top of their lungs and be covering his younger brother's ears from hearing. It was too bad that he couldn't cover his own.

It still haunted him.

Relationships. This was how he always thought them to be. In the end…they'd turn out like a disaster. The same could be said of the-would-could-have-been one he was with Sora right now. "I should leave," he said uncomfortably. "I'm sorry I ruined your night."

"That's not it, Yamato! That's not it-"

He couldn't stand it any more, it was pointless being there. "Sorry," he said again. "You should go out there. The hostess is probably needed."

He had already hurt her. He deserved to not even see her. It was his fault continuing something that wasn't even real. He had actually hoped. He left her in the male toilets after unlocking the door to be faced with flashing lights. Yamato wasn't in the mood to deal with them, but already a journalist was reporting that they had been making out in the lavatories. He shook his head, and raced out into the busy streets. Luckily, the location wasn't held in a remote place. He patiently waited to catch a cab.

As Yamato waited on the edge of the swarming street, her words repeated in his head. _He didn't know her_. It was true. He really didn't know much about her. Maybe it was best to give up the thought of even being with her.

At that moment, the thought of his father struck him. No, he wouldn't become like his father…he wouldn't give up that easily. A smile became visible on his face as he noticed something he had never noticed before. Sora may be a stranger, but he happened to know her best friend. It was stupid that the thought never occurred to him.

He waved down a taxi, sliding into it. His fingers dug into the pocket of his tuxedo, playing with the ring that she had left behind. Instead of a glass slipper, it was a fake ring. Fake like their marriage. But somehow, he was going to someday make it real. Not exactly a marriage…but he was definitely going to make something spark between them.

Yamato wasn't exactly sure if this wave of confidence was a good or bad thing. He pulled out his mobile phone and scrolled down the list.

Mark

Melissa

_Mimi_

He dialed the number, wishing for the best.

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**(a/n) **This chapter didn't exactly turn out as I had planned. It was either going to be more dramatic/angsty or less dramatic/angsty than this current chapter I have just posted up. Also, I didn't plan in revealing Catherine's identity in one chapter because I wanted to develop a sense of mysteriousness…but I really didn't want the fact that there would be a Catherine-bashing. This is because I like her character, even if she had a small (kissing) part in the 02 series. So yeah, Catherine's identity was revealed a bit early. But then again…I guess it's considerable because I didn't want to cram everything together.

There are only 4 chapters to go now! I know, some of you may be disappointed with the length of this chapter…but I thought this scene should be a stand-alone. I know (for a fact) from looking at the plan for the next chapter…it will definitely be longer. Definitely.

Thanks for reading!

Love flipstahhz


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Written 14.o3.o8

_**Giving my love to: **__little0maggie, Phoenixe825, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, Serenity984, AnimePinkCess, the-lioness, SpiffyCookie, Waltz Turner, Karush, SkuAg.OMFG-Roach, BlackMage16, Raspberrycharm., Rewind Soldier and bRattY-eBonY-cArcAss17,__**Thank you ALL!**_

Special shoutout to Serenity984. Thanks for the in-depth review. It was good to see your perspective on those matters.

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Seventeen**

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**Mimi angrily scolded **him when he impulsively rang her up. This was mainly because he had caught her in between witnessing her father going through a business-like interview with Taichi. Mimi described that her father was determined to pinpoint some sort of rotten delinquent quality hidden beneath her boyfriend's demeanour. She was an only child after all. Parents with one child were often were protective – especially when they had a single daughter. In this case that was the ulterior reason to her father's tormenting interrogation. Poor Taichi would be suffering from his father-in-law's strenuous tests.

Before she hanged up on him, they had chosen a date to meet up at her apartment when she returned from her hometown. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be a week until both Taichi and she were to return. It was already midweek, therefore there were only a few days till Yamato would meet up with Sora's best friend.

Soon enough Yamato was confronted with yet another crucial thing that squeezed into his heavy recording schedule…his grandparents were back in Tokyo. After touring various old landmarks, they had only returned to announce that they would be leaving for France in a couple of hours. He was well aware that it had been his spontaneous grandmother who had made the typical last-minute decision. He excused himself from his music recordings, to Kanji's dismay, and contacted Jyou to give him a lift to the airport – which was where he was.

Yamato caught up with them at the terminal after he catching sight of a small throng of people huddled together. Amongst them were his brother, mother and Hikari. A lump formed on his throat as he suddenly realised who else should have been there. Takeru was already aware that there was a minor strain between Sora and him, but he hadn't given him the full detail. So Takeru was quite baffled when he noticed that his sister-in-law wasn't accompanied by him.

"Where is she?" he asked, taking him aside for the rest of his family.

"I told you…we had a fight."

"I didn't think it was that serious! Why didn't you tell me? You're always brief when it comes to-"

"I'll tell you next time," he cut his brother off. He pulled on a striking smile as his he caught the surveying gazes delivered from his grandparents. "Not now. They're leaving. After this, it won't matter at all."

Takeru persisted, "But-"

Yamato walked away before his brother had the opportunity to continue and embraced each of his grandparents with gigantic bear hugs and in the process gave a brief acknowledging nod his mother and Hikari. From the little time spent with his grandparents, he still was pretty saddened to have them leave. Even if they had strong beliefs, stood their ground and were quite different…he knew he'd miss them. If they hadn't come…would he have even gotten to know Sora a bit more?

"So…where's your wife?" his grandfather questioned the obvious, leaping straight to the point and taking him away from his short-period contemplative state. One way or another, he knew one of his grandparents would address the matter. They weren't the type to let go of things or to turn a blind eye to them either.

"She couldn't make it," he said, trying not to blink from his grandfather's scrutiny. He couldn't look at him any longer, shuffling on his feet to see his younger sibling shaking his head at his inferior lying skills.

Yet, it still worked on his grandmother.

"Oh, that's woman's awfully busy with her clothing line lately. We were going to arrange another small wedding for next year…" she spoke, clicking her tongue.

His mother was no looking at him with some sort of seriousness. She also was aware of the whole-wife-plotting from Takeru.

"Not if we beat them first," Kari smartly cut in to put the attention on them. "I'm still waiting for my proposal, TK."

He chuckled, playing along and scratching his head. "What about Amanda, Mary-Ellen, Lisa, Yuki and-"

"Have you been with other woman, Takeru?" his grandfather said gruffly, taking the bait.

Hikari hit him on the head, "Stop trying to make it sound like you're a player!" Her eyes flickered towards his grandparents. "Don't worry about him, he's only referring to his fish. If he cheats on me…I will succeed the art of castration."

"Ouch," Takeru grimaced. Yamato cringed at the thought as well. "That's tough."

"It'll serve you right. That's why you wouldn't," she stated mischievously, planting a kiss on his cheek.

When it was time for his grandparents to board the plane, they all exchanged more farewells and he watched his mother cry at her parents' departure, clinging onto them like a little girl.

He gave his grandfather one final embrace when he heard him whisper in his ear. "You think you've fooled both of us…but you're grandmother and I are pretty sharp. Make up with her, will you?"

He let go. "I-"

"You love her. We all saw it. What other possible reason do you need, my boy?"

His grandfather left him astounded at the terminal, with his brother screamed good-byes in his ear like a five-year-old. The words continued to echo in his mind as he was being driven back to his residence.

"You alright, man? You look a bit pale," Jyou questioned in concern.

"Fine. Just fine," he said tersely, playing with his hands.

The song ended on the radio so Jyou switched it on to the news. Yamato was already accustomed to his driver's habit because he was an avid news listener – claiming that one should always be updated the world and what was going on around them. But his ears stung when he heard the radio MC speak.

"_On other news, Soar to the Sky designs has released a new range of clothing. Ever since its release through various stores in Japan, Sora Takenouchi has gained great success with her wonderful unique designs. Takenouchi has also_-"

There was a buzz of static and a sensation of relief settled his stomach. He didn't have to ask Jyou to change the station. One of KAT-TUN's new songs was now currently blaring from the speakers – the band that once had been the Teen-Age Wolves competitors. But her name kept repeating on his head. "I can't go home," he said. "Jyou, just take me _there_ please."

"Where?"

"You know where."

Jyou paused for a bit, absorbing what he had just spoken before redirecting the car to the opposite direction. Subsequently he farewelled his driver when he found himself facing the familiar bar observing each and every intricate detail that he was used to. From the small cracks in the bricks to the bits of ivy snaking around the pipes, he took a deep breath and entered.

It was like he was a foreigner again. It had been such a long time since he had been there. He had wanted to go there many times, but never gained the courage. It had been his sanctuary. But now…what was it? His own sanctuary of short memories? He didn't know. It wasn't meant to be related to her. But now…it was.

_She was working again._

_Hell, that girl always worked. She wasn't like those girls who would put a false smile greeting a customer, nor was she one of those girls who would rush out as soon as her shift was over. He knew that. It seemed that she 'actually' enjoyed working at the tavern._

_Her head would bop to the music, as she would open beer stubs, keep the customer talking and pinpoint parts of the music she liked. Her work seemed more a hobby. It was her natural environment._

_Plus, not only did they have ambiguous talks about music…they'd have the accidental talks about life, reality and other random thought that would come up. Sometimes they'd be in depth; sometimes they'd be simple. _

_He watched her from the distance. Attired in her black uniform, she wiped the table's surface in front of him. As she bent over, a sly smirk tingled his facial expression and gave a sharp pitchy whistle. He anticipated her jump and his smirk widened when she turned around to face him. Her automatic scowl disappeared and hunched shoulders relaxed when she saw the person give a hasty exaggerated wave in the air. She laughed. Head titled back, smile tingling on her lips as she headed towards him._

"_You're here again."_

"_I am," he agreed. "Needed time alone. Works had me stressed lately."_

_She nodded. "Consider yourself saved."_

"_Saved?"_

"_It's good to take a break once in a while, Matthew," she said. "Music is a therapy."_

"_Somewhat," he commented, thinking of how hard Kanji had been treating his band. "Music's like love. For me, it's love and hate."_

"_That's a broad statement, even for you. You usually are in the middle when it comes to our little debates."_

"_Love doesn't always exist, Sora," he laughed quietly. "Somewhere along the line, relationships stuff up."_

"_Not always," she paused, pondering as her eyes met his. "I personally think it depends on the people in relationships."_

"_How so?"_

"_If they're willing to try. If they're willing to hope."_

"_Hoping isn't always good when not everything works out," he said._

"_Sometimes hope is all that we have…even if you find love non-existent. Deep down, everybody wants to be loved," she said. She cleared his table. "I do. I know you do too."_

She wasn't there.

Should he be surprised? He didn't know...

He advanced to the bar and was about to say a hello to Suzanne until he realised that she was busy serving a customer. His eyes darted around the old surrounding, feeling a waver of confusion. Usually, he had to scurry to find himself a table…but at that moment there were so many vacant tables. The number of people that attended the bar had dropped dramatically.

He felt Suzanne tend to his side, following his gaze at the practically empty bar. "Not lively, is it?"

"It sure is quieter than usual," he conceded.

"I'm pretty sure it has to do with Alejandro getting a record deal," she voiced her thoughts. He thought that it was true. It sort of reminded him of the first time he had come to jazz bar. He couldn't forget the night he witnessed Alejandro's fingers beating fast tricky staccato notes to slow diminuendo. Looking back, he wasn't playing jazz on that night. He was playing the classical _Polonaise Op.53_ in A-flat by Chopin. From watching him play, he stayed for many hours to see him perform other jazz pieces. If it hadn't been for Alejandro's playing he wouldn't have met Suzanne - or Sora…

He frowned. With Alejandro's presence not being there, the whole vibe was low and distant. The music wasn't the same either. Instead of the beautiful notes flowing from the pianoforte, it was replaced with cheap instrumental melodies coming from a CD player. Even though it wasn't terrible, it was not even a close match or comparison to what Alejandro could do.

"The business has been pretty blue. I was joking with the owner to make this bar solely on blues," Suzanne explained. "I don't think he found it amusing."

"I'm sure he didn't."

"We tried getting someone knew…but no one could live up to Alejandro, ya know?" she sighed. "So why are you here? Alejandro's not playing anymore…this place has the atmosphere like a ghost town."

"A drink would be good."

She rolled her eyes, pouring a pint of water and pushing it to him. "I take that back. I know your sincere motive to why you're here."

"How so?" He arched one of his eyebrows, unsure where their conversation was going.

"It's Saturday night, Matthew. You should be out with your friends hanging out. Yet, you're here. Sure, I know you used to come here a lot. But those reasons why you came are no longer here. I may be an old woman, but I know when I see something that doesn't click."

"You're not that old," he muttered honestly.

"Don't flatter me, boy," she spoke. "Honey, she's not going to come here. She's been avoiding this joint like the plague."

"I'm not even thinking about Sora!"

"Then how did you know I was speaking about her?" she said cruelly. "You're not that difficult to read."

"So you knew my intentions from the moment I walked in?" he cajoled.

"Off course," she beamed. "From the beginning you shyly bowed your head to me and asked her name. Off course I knew."

"It was for wanting to know her music views-"

"And a lot more," Suzanne winked.

"I give up. You've been twisting all my words."

"That's what I'm here for," she teased.

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Perhaps he now had an idea to why his best friend wasn't really content in moving into Mimi's apartment straightaway. Every wall that held up her residence was a pale pink. It's not the walls that bothered him. Besides the walls, the decorations, centerpieces, paintings were _all_ hot pink. He took a seat next to Taichi whose eyes were glued onto the television screen as if he was gripping for his dear life.

No matter what situation his best friend was in, anything concerning some sort of gaming made literally anything seem positive. It took Yamato a while to capture Taichi's attention to show that he had come over. After a few waves in the face, he lost concentration causing his character to be trampled by a load of stones from the other opponent. He gained a lot of sucker punches from him after his loss. Taichi was then even more determined to rematch and was still at it.

"You're here, Yamato. You might as well talk," Mimi said sharply. Ever since his arrival at her apartment, the air was tense and it felt like he was walking on eggshells whenever he spoke to her.

"Uhh…you _see_…"

"DAMN IT! YOU'RE A CHEAT! I WAS THERE FIRST!" Taichi boomed, fighting vigorously with the screen. "You're an _asshole_!"

Mimi rolled her eyes, already accustomed to his loud outbursts. It wasn't possible for them to talk about Sora when Taichi was screeching his lungs out over one of his games. She nudged her head towards the kitchen for them to go. When they did, she pulled out a bowl of Doritos and a glass of pineapple flavoured cordial (Yamato was glad it wasn't strawberry because he wasn't sure if he could take the pinkness any longer).

Before he even took a sip, she was at him like a hawk. Her hand slammed down on the counter. "Don't you think it's two months late that you come prancing in here for my advice?"

"So many things happened…I wasn't sure-"

"Yamato, I was your source from the start!" she barked hysterically, throwing her hands up in the air as she hyperventilated. "Why didn't you come earlier?"

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "She confuses the hell out of me."

"The same goes for her," Mimi said, shaking her head. "The both of you are so stuffed up it's hard to explain. It's like I'm your official marriage counselor."

"Is she mad at me?"

"Dear, she was so furious. I think she's more or less settled down now. She was so furious that she even drastically cut her hair to forget about everything! And she had beautiful hair, mind you. Seeing it shoulder-length kills me every time I look at it," Mimi laughed lividly. "She's really pissed off at you at the moment because she thinks that you think that she's a gold digger."

"I never thought-"

"And the fact that you…well…you slept with her – which she doesn't blame you for."

"Then she's furious with herself for sleeping with me?" he grumbled. "I don't understand where you're heading, Meems."

"What I'm trying to say is that there's more to her, Yamato."

"I wasn't implying she was a prostitute or something," Yamato said sarcastically. "It was my fault too. It was the heat of the moment."

"You were her first real relationship. Therefore, you were the first person she slept with. She's uncomfortable about it."

"It's just sex."

"I'm not just talking about your night together…I'm just saying in general. Do you know why she never was in a relationship during high school, Yamato?" she asked seriously, looking him in the eye with such intensity that it made the hairs on his skin stand up.

"Well…she did mention once before that she never had a proper relationship," he started.

"Did it ever occur to you that you should have asked?" Mimi queried. "This is another reason why guys can be so hopeless."

"Gee, thanks. Could you just tell me, Meems. You're killing me."

"And you haven't been killing her? She's been so stressed out lately, Yamato."

"Tell me," he insisted forcefully.

She took a sip from her own glass, eyes trailing at the magnets on her fridge. "She was always busy during her high school years…with school, work and…her older brother."

He blinked. "Her brother? She has a brother?" he said curiously.

"_Had_," Mimi corrected. "Every day after school, besides the days she'd work at the florist, she'd go to the hospital to visit him. He had leukemia."

"Leukemia? Isn't that treatable?"

"It depends. Sora was too busy with being at her brother's side that she rejected everyone who asked her out…even Tai asked her out one time," she laughed. "I was jealous."

"Leukemia," he repeated. His heart dropped. She had been hiding this all along? "That's also the reason she didn't go to the school deb?"

"He died on that night," Mimi said. "She still blames herself, you know?"

"Why?"

"The hospital took bone marrow from her so that they could administer it to her brother. But it didn't work out…his immune system ended up fighting her bone marrow instead of accepting it," Mimi told. "I was never her best friend, Yamato. Her best friend had always been her brother."

"Then I shouldn't have been an ass on her a week ago. I thought I had it bad…but," he said to no one in specific.

"You talked to her a week ago?" she spluttered but saw him speed out the kitchen into the lounge room. "Yamato, WAIT!"

He pulled on his shoes and ran out of the apartment. He was pretty sure that Taichi hadn't even noticed him leaving, nor did he care. All he was grateful for was the fact that his apartment was reasonably close to his own. His feet raced down the short-cut alleyways and when he arrived home, he was rummaging through his drawers like a lunatic. It was then that he finally obtained it.

He held the album in his hands, feeling the soft ribbons pierce his skin. He dropped onto the bed stomach-first and slowly flipped through the pages of Sora's photo album. He had meant to give it back to her a while ago, but he had kept it. Even after their awkward dispute, he had forgotten that he still possessed it.

From the first page he then noticed that there were pictures missing. He even caught some captions that he hadn't seen earlier. Like _Sato pushing Sora on the swings_ or the _Sato and Sora fighting over ice cream._ But with those captions, there were no pictures available. It was as if the memories never happened. As the pictures progressed and as she grew older, her large goofy smile gradually turned mature and…sad?

There were still plenty gaps in the album missing. He recalled Sora saying that her father had stolen the pictures on the album because he lived in Kyoto. She must have lied. She either didn't want him to see the photos of her brother or she just didn't want to see them herself. It all made sense now.

Somehow Sora was no longer appeared as mysterious as he had thought her to be.

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**(a/n) Again, I thought this chapter would be longer because of all the content I put in. I think it's got to do with how I chopped off some stuff and was meant to drag on things a bit longer – but I didn't find it necessary, which was why I didn't. Three more chapters left! Thanks for checking this out, guys! **

**Heart ya!**

**Flipstahhz**


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Written 18.o3.o8

_**Thanks for reading last chapter: **__SpiffyCookie, Phoenixe825, little0maggie, Waltz Turner, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, AnimePinkCess, nickygirl, Karush, blue wolf luv red phoenix, passer-by & Kuroi Black Nightingale._

**Passer-by:** You didn't leave your email, so you'll be getting an early reply here. Thank-you for reading this story. I hope you've checked out other sorato stories as well (check out theladyknight if you haven't). I planned a lot of this story from the beginning, so everything's pretty much been intertwined from the start. Thanks for your review, dear. Next time leave your email. Haha ;)

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**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Eighteen**

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**For once a **huge grin plastered over his manager's face as he beamed over him. He offered to strap the guitar off his shoulder and carefully place it on a stand. Yamato stared at his manager, appalled. He hadn't bothered to find a new manager seeming Kanji wanted to stick with him…but _still_

Of all the time Kanji had taken him under his wing, he had never shown such approval for what he did. Heck, he didn't even personally like the genre of music he was playing nowadays. But this time it was different. He was clapping like a mad man in adoration and admiration.

"Finally," he said in appraisal. 

"Finally what?" Yamato questioned back.

"Yamato, you should be proud of yourself. You've finally put the pieces together on your own. This album actually makes sense," Kanji said, still grinning. "I don't know where you got your inspiration from…but somehow it's clearly showing in your lyrics and composition. I feel like a man watching his son graduate from high-school."

"I don't know whether to feel scared or proud of that comment," Yamato laughed, scratching the back of his head in his typical mannerism. 

"Well, if I were you I would take it as a compliment. I thought you couldn't do it without your band. I rarely say stuff like this…but this is _really_ good," he complimented.

Yamato couldn't help but match up his manager's expression, a vicious grin forming onto his face. It was true. Having approval from his manager was like having approval from the almighty God above. He wouldn't have completed the album without Kanji's constant nagging to strive his hardest. His constant pushing made him produce the best work he had ever done. The hard work had definitely paid off. But, he had to admit, that all his motivation hadn't come from Kanji or himself…it had been the thought of her. Of meeting her…of _falling_ for her?

He had made so much effort to gain contact with her, but every road he took practically turned into a dead end. Even though Yamato wasn't the type of person to give up easily, he also wasn't the type to dwell too much. Therefore when he knew that there was no progression in meeting Sora again, he decided to focus properly onto his music again. But every song he played, every note he composed and every word that merged into the lyric…were all related subtly to her. It was inevitable. How could he forget?

"Anyway, son, I gotta check with the higher-ups with what they think of your new tracks before putting out your album. I've still got a bunch of tickets for the release party," he handed him a taught envelope. "I'm really glad. Go get yourself a drink. I know, for fact, that this will do well."

So as Yamato departed from the recording studio his fingers delved into the envelope. There were approximately fifteen tickets he had been given. In his mind he ticked off who would invite. They consisted of his father, brother, mother, Taichi, Mimi, Cat (if she was still in Japan), Jun, Jyou, Yutaka, Akira, Takaishi and the two latter's girlfriends. As he ticked off each of the tickets available he figured out that there were only two tickets remaining. He groaned. Perhaps he'd invite…

"_Alejandro_!" he exclaimed in disbelief as he found himself running to meet the man he hadn't seen for quite some time now. The older man in the foyer jogged up to meet him as well, exuberance lighting his face as he caught sight of the other musician. 

"Why hello Yamato! How are you?"

"What brings you here?" Yamato said, still stunned giving him a manly embrace. "I didn't know you were under the same label as me!"

"_Was_," the pianist corrected. "I've just resigned from them today."

"What?" Yamato spat out, eyes widening. 

"J-One Records isn't for me," he laughed bitterly. 

"But it's one of the best music dealing companies!" Yamato spluttered, not coming to terms that Alejandro was no longer a part of his label.

"Don't you see, Yamato? It was never like that. I never wanted to sign-up for a record company purely based on fame, glamour and money. That's not me. Fame isn't everything," he said wistfully. "Music is."

It was then that Yamato discovered that he'd never be as music-dedicated as how the pianist was. 

"But-"

"I know you're going to try and reason with me and say that I might regret it," he interrupted. "I've already thought it through. It would kill me to play something I hated than live up to other people's expectations."

"So you'd rather be a starving artist?"

"I would," he replied with utter confidence and with no sign of doubtfulness whatsoever. 

"There's no way convincing you, is there?"

"No," he confirmed with a chuckle. "No way in hell." 

"What are you going to do now?"

"Other than that, starve in the street," he said, "I'll probably drop in and see if the jazz bar misses my presence."

"I'm sure they do. Even Suzanne," Yamato winked and nudged the man. 

A light blush appeared on the man's cheeks. "Now why would do you say that?"

Yamato may have not been observant but he knew there always had been something going on between the lady-bartender and the pianist. Ever since he had stumbled across the jazzy scene, he had caught them exchanging glances when the other was sure that he or she wasn't looking. While Suzanne was pretty sure she had solved him out with Sora's matter, the same could be said about Yamato. The blond haired man knew that she wasn't radiating the same happiness she had when Alejandro worked at the same place as her.

"You know," Yamato paused, light bulb flickering in his head. "Why don't you ask her on a date? I've got two tickets here…the theme is a masquerade related to my new album release because it's titled _Her Masquerade._"

"Oh, I see where this is going," the pianist gave him an all-knowing-look. "It's all about her, isn't it?"

"Who?"

"All those songs you composed…don't tell me they were about Sora."

"The weren't," he denied in aghast only to be met by his fierce gaze. "Okay...perhaps they were?"

"Will she be attending the night?" Alejandro asked only to shake his head when he knew the reply. "You've got to be kidding me! I can't accept these tickets then! That's like accepting a bouquet of roses for the wrong person! You might as well invite her since the album is focused on _her_."

"What do you propose I do then?"

"You're a lost soul, aren't you?" Alejandro laughed. "Just give them to her. She'll go. Any bets."

"How would you know?"

"I was there practically every night you came to the bar. She'd always forward your conversations about music to me and how wonderful you were at actually hold conversations solely on music…and _not_ hit on her."

"What?"

"You've got to be a fool to not know that the girl is attractive. So many times she's been used to sleazy guys hitting on her…and your first approach was music! Off course you've had her eye and respect ever since!"

"I'd be lying if I said she was ugly," Yamato admitted. "But…any bets she won't come. We're in a bit of a dispute at the moment. She hates my guts."

"She's unpredictable. She'll turn up."

"Unpredictable is a word I'm really hating right now," Yamato grumbled.

"Just take my word. I've known her for a while…she does whatever needs to be done. She doesn't like beating around the bush too long. Keep the tickets."

"How about the spare?"

"I'm sure you can find someone else. Plus, I don't think J-One Records would want to see my face at your debut after I left them."

He chuckled.

"You'd better not let those tickets go to waste, Yamato," Alejandro said sternly. "I'm counting on you. She likes you…what else do you need to know?"

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He didn't know where he got his courage from, but when he was facing the main office to _Soar to the Sky Designs_ he instantly wanted to turn and run off in the opposite direction. Alejandro's words sure got to him. The same could be said of his grandfather, Takeru, Taichi, Akira and Mimi…but still he couldn't hide the fact that he was scared of getting rejected. Rejection wasn't something he particularly didn't want to deal with. Hell, no one enjoyed any form of rejection. 

Yamato straightened his back as he took deep steady breaths. Heck, it was now or never.

He'd march in there, hand the invitation to her and then leave. If she was going to come, fine. If she wasn't going to attend, fine – he'd move on after that and start from fresh. It sounded simple…but it obviously wasn't.

"Yamato?"

He saw Yolie advance towards him curiously. In comparison to the art smock she had been wearing the first time he had met her, she was now clad in a stylish suit that clung to her curves in a fashionable manner; something expected when she was the secretary to one of the most famous brands in Japan. "You probably don't want to talk to me right now."

"It's not that," Yamato lied. He still hadn't quite forgiven Sora's secretary for slipping the invitations to her launch without her permission. Now that he thought about it, if he gave his invitations to his debut…would she think of it as some practical joke and not take it seriously?

"I'm really sorry," she apologised. "I was just trying to get the two of you together, ya know? She used to talk about you a lot. And all of a sudden she just stopped. She's been so sad and lonely lately, and I thought inviting you would have done her good. She keeps saying how it's her fault…and guilty over something…I have no idea. But I know you would!"

Just like the moment he had met her, Yolie was already in her comfort zone with chatting so quickly that it took a while for him to pick up and absorb what she actually was saying. 

"Yeah, I do know why. It was partly my fault. I think it's the secrets we hide…but I don't know. She confuses me."

"It won't be confusing when both of you face your feelings straight in the face," she commented. "Ken used to be like that with me. Took a while for him to see that I was flaunting and flirting…sometimes men can be oblivious, you know?"

"Not really."

"Ah, don't mind that. Sora's worse than you. It appears that you've already come to terms with it now that you're standing here," Yolie said. "Which brings me to the question I wanted to ask earlier. _Why _are you here?"

"I've been trying to contact her for so long…and the only place I knew that she couldn't avoid me was work," he explained. "So…is she here?"

"Right she's going to be in a meeting soon."

"Oh," he said in mild disappointment.

"Darling, don't take it too harshly. It's only a meeting with her mother…I can squeeze you in, no worries," Yolie smiled smugly. "Let's just say Sora may not take it well…"

Before he had the chance to object she was already pushing him down the corridor into Sora's private office suite. The door succumbed to his strength and left him flying onto the marble floor. Just as he got up to wipe the dirt off his shoulders, the door shut and he stared at his surrounding. Damn Yolie and her strange tactics, he cursed to himself.

Like Sora's apartment, it was fixed with multi fresh colours, splashing with intensity and fending off a modern vibe. He then saw her. Her back was facing him, head searching through a large wardrobe of clothes in evident concentration. As if she had felt her presence, she spun around. He noticed that when she saw him, there was a loss of colour on her cheeks as if she had seen a ghost. 

"Sora," he called after her as she turned the opposite direction he was and stormed away. "Please, don't do this. Don't be so difficult."

He retraced her steps, chasing after her as they took a sharp bend around the corner of one of the plenty desks she had present in her gigantic work space. 

It was then he looked ahead and realised she was aiming for a room within her office. He jogged after her in a faster speed. She got into the room, shutting the door and locking him out. Just as he was about to tap on the windows, she drew the blinds up. He let out an exasperated sigh. He thought that he should leave there…but he couldn't. He didn't want to.

"I know about your brother," he revealed. Even if the door was shut, he was certain that he could hear her. Suddenly, the door opened slightly. He took his opportunity and entered it. 

She was sitting, elbows resting on her desk, holding her head up. She wasn't looking at him. "I'm tired of this," she said. "Whom'd you hear it off?"

"Mimi," he said honestly. 

"Why couldn't you leave me alone, Yamato? You're such a bastard," she said softly, but he didn't get offended for her tone had no purpose and was at a complete loss. As he went closer, he saw her flinch…so he stood frozen on the spot. "Why are you here?"

"I'm sorry," he responded quietly. "I didn't really acknowledge it. I threw you into a strange equation without considering the effects. And I also didn't take it literal about how you didn't date…but now I know the reason. I'm new to this scene too, Sora. You gotta understand that."

"Stupid Mimi," she muttered under her breath. 

"She's worried about you."

"She's always been like this. It's like she enjoys making things even more complicated."

"It's us. We're making everything complicated," he said. "I'm sorry, Sora. Let's start from the beginning. I'm willing to try us out. "

"Why are you telling me this? We don't even know each other!"

"Perhaps because you're not giving me a chance," he counter-attacked. "And we never took our time together seriously. Give me a chance."

"I-"

"Sora, I really want to get to know you more."

She closed her eyes, massaging her head as if she had a migraine.

"I like you," he confessed so quietly that it was hard to perceive. 

Her eyes snapped open, this time her attention was focused on his standing figure in astonishment. "What?"

"Do I really have to repeat it?" he said. 

"But you can't. You weren't meant to say that," she replied.

"Well, I have," he stated. He continued to fill the silence so that his awkward words would hopefully disappear. He was facing rejection in the face if she reacted like that. "Well…I actually came here to give you a ticket to my debut launch. I guess, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have gotten around to writing my own stuff. Just think of it a thank-you."

"I'm not sure."

"Please come," Yamato said persistently. "I know you're still confused with this all, but I still would like to be friends…and talk about music…like we always have – before all of this happened. I'll make it up for you. If you want your money-"

"I don't want your darn money, Yamato. I never did," she sighed. "How many times do I have to say that? You're confusing me. You really are."

On schedule, a woman entered the room. She was roughly Sora's height, had high cheekbones and had the same matching auburn hair. She was definitely Sora's mother. She stared at the both of them and a smile formed on her lips. "Am I interrupting something?" she questioned in a husky voice.

"Who is this handsome looking young man?" Her gaze than lingered on him, studying his features and nodding to herself. "Is it him, Sora; your rumoured husband?"

"Stop joking around, I already told you about our _fake_ marriage," from her hands burying her head, she was now sitting in an upright position, back straight against the wooden chair she was seated on.

"You told your mother?" he said.

"Did you expect me to let my mother out of the loop with all those rumours circulating around?" she said. "I can't really hide everything."

"It's a pity. I think you would have been fine together," Sora's mother said. "You look like a perfect couple."

"Really now?" Sora raised an eyebrow. 

"Why would a mother lie?"

If Sora's mother was fine if they became a real couple…an idea sprung into his head. It wouldn't hurt to try, he thought. He pulled out two tickets from his blazer pocket.

"I've actually got two spare tickets to the launch of my new album. Would you be interested in attending, Mrs. Takenouchi," he said with a charming smile. "I've got another ticket for Mr. Takenouchi…but I heard off Sora that he's in Kyoto?"

"Yes, that's right," she said, nodding her head, latching onto his train of thoughts. He swore he saw her wink at his direction. "Then, Sora, you might as well accompany me there. I wouldn't want to go on my own."

"But-" she protested.

This was where he took his queue to leave. He teased, "Sora, I hope by then you figure things out. I don't care if it's a yes or no…just don't let your mother go to the launch party by herself. That would be selfish. Right, Mrs. Takenouchi?"

"Very so," she replied instantaneously in amusement. Sora glared daggers at him.

».●·°˚¯¯˚°·●.«●».●·°˚¯¯˚°·●.«●».●·°˚¯¯˚°·●.«●».●·°˚¯¯˚°·●.«

**(a/n) Replies will be done tomorrow. I don't know if this chapter is good or not…I know it wasn't done to the best of my abilities because I kept getting interrupted in between. Nevertheless, there is ONE more chapter PLUS the EPILOGUE and then MFV will be complete. During my Easter break I will be going interstate. Hopefully during that time away, I'll finish the whole story. Wish me luck in getting both done before I come back! Thanks for reading so far!**

Next Chp: Masquerade, baby! LOL


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Written: 22.o3.o8

_**Thanks for the feedback for last chapter: **__the-lioness, little0maggie, nickygirl, Phoenixe825, SkuAg, SpiffyCookie, Waltz Turner, Yamora Love n Friendship, Sakura Takanouchi, Smoochynose, Rewind Soldier, bRattY-eBonY-cArcAss17, princess cythera, Nanita, OMFG-Roach, AnimePinkCess, blue wolf luv red phoenix, Serenity984 and QiniYn __**Ps. There's so many of you guys that I didn't know who read this story and I was blown away to see all these reviews from username's I've never seen before. THANKS for taking the time to review so I can properly thank each of you individually!**_

**My Funny Valentine**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Ironically, **_**This Masquerade**_ by The Carpenters blared from the sound system. Yamato had made an enormous effort for everything to go through smoothly that night. He had wanted to hold his launch party in a smaller function room, but Kanji insisted that it had to be larger for his proper debut. Since Kanji had gotten to decide where his debut would be held at, Yamato had stubbornly been the only one to arrange it all. He knew that deep down, he wanted everything to perfect if he were to '_woo'_ her.

Even if they were only to be friends, he didn't know if he could cope with no contact whatsoever. Anything would do. He was glad her mother had instantly taken a liking to him in that short period of time. Maybe she wanted Sora to experience and joy herself. If that girl had been so busy taking care of her brother and the florist when she was younger…it was understandable. But now she was over-doing it with working at the bar part-time and going all out for her clothing label. The same could be said about him…somehow when they were together they could relax and eliminate all the exterior stressors in life. Perhaps that was why he liked her…because they both understood each others' situations.

Different glittery fancy masks disguised everyone's faces that either belonged to an extravagantly dazzling gown or a crisp tuxedo. It was hard to determine the identity of his guests, but it was the whole point of the masquerade. Then again, it was also quiet easy to figure out some of the people out. Taking, for instance, a woman with ear-length stylish hair that flared in multiple directions, who was holding hands with…someone with glasses on top of his mask and a glossy mop of bluish hair…_what?_ He blinked, yet still the couple were there.

Not being able to hold back the curiosity, he walked towards them to have them bid their hellos. "You can't be serious?" he said in utter astonishment, pointing a finger at them. He then saw the female angle her head on the man's supportive shoulder. The shock settled in, and he confirmed it. "You're serious!"

"Oh, hey Yamato. Well, this is Jun," his limousine driver introduced. "She's my girlfriend."

"_What?"_ it still wasn't sinking in.

"Yeah, I was surprised too. We told each other that we were both going out tonight…and found out that we were going to the same place! It's a small world, isn't it?" the retail music store worker giggled. "I mean, we've been dating for three years and I never knew he worked part time as your driver. I always thought he meant he was a taxi driver part-time!"

"Hey, it was part of the contract to not tell anyone my real job…right Yamato?"

"Right," he said, still blinking. Jun was right. What a small world they really lived in. It appeared that he was getting into a lot of these dilemmas lately. Even when he found out that Taichi's girlfriend – Mimi – was Sora's best friend. Perhaps somewhere high in the clouds God had all of them on a chessboard, playing his own game in entertainment.

"So…is this all for her?" Jun said, extending her arms at their magnificently structured surrounding. "It's beautiful. She'll love it."

The musician arched an eyebrow, "You told her?"

"Well, I couldn't help it," Jyou said good-naturedly, boyish grin appearing on his features that Yamato couldn't help but not take offence anymore. "I'll get us some drinks," Jun winked through her feathery pale blue mask, royal blue dress flouncing as she carefully made her way done the steps.

Jyou took the chance to fill in the silence above the music that played, "Yamato, I just wanted to say thanks-"

"It's fine," Yamato grinned. "I know you'll use it well. You're doing good for society."

"You are too…in an artistic way, that is," Jyou said, trying to get the attention away from himself. Ever since Yamato had met him all shaking and quivering at the interview, Jyou was the type of person who never liked to be the centre of attention. Good ol' reliable Jyou at your service. "Thanks for inviting me your debut."

"For all the times I've nagged your ass to take me around, you deserve it. It should be me owing you." He gave him a punch on the arm. "Congratulations on becoming a doctor…It'll be hard finding a replacement driver. You were my man."

"Should I get protective over that?" Jun intervened jokingly as Jyou rolled his eyes.

"I'll leave you guys…I need to check out how everything is doing," Yamato said.

As he left the pair, he smoothed out his flashy silver tailcoat. His tie was black, as were his leather polished shoes. He double checked on the music, and gave a small smile…glad that it was being played well. He gone to certain extents to get the best instrumental players Japan had to offer. He also had people audition to take certain singing positions for that night. The lilting tune of _The Masquerade_ gave a mysterious and stunning aura…which was what he intended. It was like how he felt when he first met her. Hell, it felt as if everything was based on her that night…and he didn't give a damn. The party had only started fifteen minutes ago, but he still felt nervous. What if she wouldn't come? What would he do?

In timing, someone approached him. "Don't worry, she'll be here," his best friend spoke as if reading his thoughts. Mimi had her arm hooked in his, long curly tresses neatly glistening under the disco ball and looking gorgeous in her hot-pink cocktail dress and a matching glittery mask. "Tai's right. She'll come."

"You've been stressing over all the little intricate details," Taichi assured. "It'll be fine, Matt. If she doesn't turn up we'll get Mimi to force her to."

"Hi Tai!" a younger woman exclaimed, giggling as she latched onto her partner's side. From a familiar chuckle, it was then that Yamato could distinguish that the pair were actually his brother and Hikari.

They pranced off onto the dance floor, lips locking and Taichi and himself exchanged looks of disgust.

"Yeah, I always wondered if either Tai or you were female…if you'd date," Mimi said thoughtfully.

"Your fantasies are scary," Taichi grumbled, shaking off her arm and folding his own together in protest. "That grosses me out."

"I gotta double that," Yamato laughed heartedly. Mimi had her lips pressed together in amusement.

A few minutes went by and he was asked to the middle of the dance floor. Kanji was already there to hand him the microphone. He cleared his throat as his eyes swept through all the guests. "Thank-you for all being here for my debut," he said curtly and heard Takahashi whoop loudly in the background. "Well, it's a big leap from my usual genre…I usually sing rock…but in the end I'm glad I completed it. Most of the music is jazz based, but I've incorporated other types of music here and there. Each song is a story following each other…I think my main inspiration was mystery and getting to know this special person. She motivated me to change emotionally and musically. Without you, this wouldn't have happened. You know who you are."

This time Taichi cheered. Yamato's gaze flickered in every direction, but as he couldn't see her…he felt a wave of disappointment drench his emotions. Kanji nudged him to proceed on. With an abrupt cough, the musician continued.

"And to the other people who helped me reach my goal." He listed, "My old band, without you I wouldn't be here. Kanji, my manager, who's been always pushing me to the limit ever since I've met him. And lastly to J-One records. You've been supporting me since The Teen-Age Wolves and you're now supporting my new album."

There was an enormous applaud that Yamato knew it was the best place to leave the speech, since he detested doing them. "Have fun tonight."

As he was about to dash off the stage, Kanji placed a hand on his shoulder – holding him back. "This guy has worked so hard. And he's been like my own son in many ways. I've watched him improve over the years…so let's make a toast to…YAMATO ISHIDA!"

He noticed in amazement as champagne glasses were raised and then drank from. He felt queasy and happy inside and he almost wanted to tear up when he saw his manager crying in pure contentment. He almost felt fulfilled…_almost_. She wasn't there. He was right. He shouldn't have hoped so much.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder so he instantaneously turned in response. From one glance at the woman's model figure, tall build and ringlets of gold…he knew it was his dear cousin.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" she smirked when she said the corny line. She then mixed her talk into old English, "Why does thy ever so chivalrous cousin look down in the burrows?"

"Catherine, shut-up," he muttered in irritation.

"Don't be such a sore thumb. She's here…by the way. I can't believe you haven't noticed her yet," she snickered. "I just wanted to play with you for a bit. You get so sad so easily. TK's always been the positive one."

"Shut-up. Where is she?"

She giggled, and pointed a particular direction. "Right over there."

His gaze flickered to where Catherine had mentioned. She was standing by the punch bowl. It was sort of a coincidence that it was he who had been standing next to it on her clothing line launch. But now she was standing in his place. He then recalled seeing her from the beginning of the party; it was that he hadn't recognised her. He still needed to adjust to her short auburn hair. He hadn't expected her to come, but there she was in her pretty dress looking straight at him through her black jewelled mask. In one of her hands she held a glass of sparkling white wine that contrasted with her simple strapless black dress. Besides her was her mother who was enthusiastically chattering to one of the other guests rather lively.

Yamato hurriedly headed to her direction, merging with the dancing couples on the dance-floor. But when he got there it was only her mother that he found. The person he had caught her in animation talking to had been his own father. He tipped into their conversation, hearing something amongst the lines of how Sora's mother really wanted them to get married. His father just nodded his head now and again, facial expression flabbergasted.

"Mrs. Takenouchi…did you know where your daughter went?"

"Oh, Yamato honey. She just went out to find you. She's on the dance-floor. When she heard your speech, she burst into tears. You really must-"

Before her mother gave him any more love advice, he was back on the crowded dance floor searching for any sign of her. It was then that he caught a certain scent. His heart beat quickened and his stomach wrenched. That rosy fragrance could only belong to one person. His hands snaked around the woman's waist and breathed into her ear, "It's you."

She tensed when he rocked her in his arms, but relaxed as soon as he knew whom it was that was holding her. They swayed gracefully to the slow melody.

"So I thought about it," she spoke so quietly that one could have not comprehended it from the music. But he could here her, considering his neck was craned down a bit too close to her bare neck. "I thought about it," she repeated, fingers ringing on his own. "It didn't take me that long actually, but I think I'm in love with you, Mr. Ishida."

They were finally together. Just hearing those words from her mouth made him speechlessly dumbfounded, and now knowing what to say. That's how happy he was. She took his silence as a sort of rejection. "I mean, I wasn't meant to…you know?"

His grasp tightened around her. "I was scared as well. But hell…it looks like it happened," he said truthfully. "I think I'm in love with you too."

She slipped out of his hold and turned to face him, expression filled with passionate emotion and eyes beginning to tear. Before she replied, his lips had already found hers. He felt her arms tackle around his neck and the rosy scent filling his sensation. He ran his hands through her short auburn hair and could feel her wet tears pressing onto his face.

There was an ear-piercing whistle that interrupted them. He turned around and saw Takahashi and Akira motioning him to come to where they were standing. Sora took it with ease, letting her fingers fall into his as Yamato led her off the dance floor. The two boys were accompanied each with a date, but the girls were immersed in their own little conversations.

"Why Yamato, who's this fine lady?" Takahashi jeered.

"You've met her before," Yamato rolled his eyes at the bassist. He reintroduced them to her, "This is Sora. Sora, this is the guys."

"We have names," the guitarist laughed as he held his hand out. "I'm Takahashi."

She nodded and let go of his hand to shake the other former band member. "And I'm Akira," he said.

"Nice to meet you all again," she smiled brightly. "I've heard so much about you all."

"Yeah, I'm glad you guys managed to make it. Akira, I know how long it took for you to get the rehab's permission. Really, man. Thanks…it means so much with all of you being here," Yamato said gratefully. "Really."

"It should be us thanking you, Yamato. But sometimes…I think you've got to stop looking down on yourself. I wouldn't have met any of you if you hadn't offered me a place in our band…and look how far we've gone now. I mean, look how far _you've _gone. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks," he stammered.

"So you're the girl my man's been tossing over," Takahashi regarded Sora through his eyes.

"What do you mean?" she was equally eyeing the man suspiciously.

"You're the woman that the whole album is based on. I may not be as musically inclined as my man Akira and Yamato…but I am pretty sure that every word in each of the songs are about you."

"Really?" an eyebrow raised.

"Takahashi," he warned.

"But it's true! Right Akira?" Takahashi said and received Akira's nod in agreement. "You really were his inspiration."

"That's so sweet," she laughed. "Did you really do that?"

Yamato grumbled something under his breath and then realised that there was one person missing from the group. "Where's that ass?"

"Yutaka?"

"Yeah, that ass," Yamato said.

"Looks like Yutaka is scoring! That girl sure if foxy," Takahashi snickered with Akira joining along in merriment. He followed their gazes to see their drummer's usual scowling face be replaced with something, well, normal. His typical frown was turned upside down and his eyes behind his mask seemed brighter.

But that wasn't the thing that shocked him. He was next to someone with long flowing hair and a brilliant smile who was evidently flirting back. _Catherine?_ At the moment he really wanted to barf. Yutaka and Catherine? If he had thought his brother and Hikari getting it on with tongue-action was gross, this had to be even more ridiculously gruesome.

"Do you want to dance a bit more? Our song is playing," Sora commented. And it was. My Funny Valentine was now being played by the mini orchestra and the female artist sang the song ever-so seductively.

"Do I even get a choice? You pretty much said we had to."

"I know," she smiled. "That was the whole purpose of it." She dragged him back onto the dance floor.

As they began to dance to beat again, she continued to talk. "You know, I wasn't about to come tonight."

"Why is that? You already said you loved me," he mocked. "I did recall you saying that."

"No, really," she replied back seriously. "When I found out off Alejandro that you weren't about to give me an invitation at all…I was pretty saddened about that because it felt like I was taking second-hand tickets."

"Hey, I really wanted to give you the other one…but I didn't pucker enough courage until he pretty much drilled it into me."

"Still…I didn't feel like coming after that. But I really didn't have a choice," she said, eyes drifting back to their parents whom were still talking above the music. "My mother threatened that if I didn't come tonight she wouldn't visit me anymore."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When she wants something…she goes for it all out. Somehow your charm shone when you met and she immediately grew fond of you."

"Still, you had a choice to disagree."

"Trust me on this, Yamato. You think your grandparents are scary? Ha! When you get to know my mother, they'll be completely crossed off your list."

"Sounds frightening."

"Exactly," she said. "You should be frightened."

"But do you regret not coming tonight?" he questioned.

She placed her arms around his neck and stared straight into his blue eyes. "No. Of course not."

"Why?"

"From the moment I came in, the blue orchards already had me. You're smooth. Real smooth, Mr. Rockstar," she said.

"So it was worth littering every part of this reception with blue orchards? It was really expensive, you know?"

She added, "And the fact that I've just spoken to Jyou and he revealed that you offered to pay for his whole tuition fee from the money that was meant to be given for me."

"Well, I'm good like that," he replied cockily.

"All to get me head over heels? You did a great job. You got my favourite flower right this time," she commended. "I can't believe you did this all…for me."

"Heck," he said, turning his head away from her face. "It was just a lure to try and get you to sing duet for a bonus track."

"Liar," she stated, hitting him playfully on the arm.

The music slowed down for the MC to talk to the guests of the album release. "It's time to take off your masks, ladies and gentlemen."

He took his off easily. As she was about to untie hers, Yamato did it for her. He delicately untied the satin ribbon and let the mask fall from her face. Her cheeks were a bit pink, but the large smile made any angel envious. Her eyes sparkled with something he had never seen before. And she loved him. She darn loved him. Not for his money (she had earned it herself), popularity…just for being him.

"I forgot."

"You forgot what?" she queried in concern.

"I forgot to tell you how breathtaking you look tonight."

If she had rubbed in how he had written an album based on her, he had the right to make her feel uncomfortable too. He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. Sora's shaky hands opened it.

Inside was a white-gold necklace with a special pendent hanging from it.

She burst into laughter. "You got that fake thing engraved?"

Dangling from the necklace was the ring that they had bought from one of the kid machines back to the time she had first agreed to be his pseudo wife. He had thoughtfully went to the jewellers and asked to get it engraved. The engraver had given him a strange look and reminded him the ring wasn't real gold, but Yamato still pushed on to get it engraved.

"Sky," she said. "Why sky?"

"That's what your name means, doesn't it?" he said, suddenly unsure if he did it correctly.

"Right," she said. "I still stick by how smooth you are."

"And I stick by that you're not mysterious as you make out to be."

"Whatever," she beamed. "You'll graduate from being the _smoothest _master if you give me a kiss. Right here, right now."

"That's fine by me," he said.

And he did.

**Dear Grandmamma and Grandpapa,**

How is the weather like back in France?

Our plan worked. When I revealed it to them, Matt started skitzing non-stop and Sora looked just about ready to throw the nearest vase at me. I told you there was nothing to worry about. Sure, they were having an argument before you left…but I knew that they'd sort it out one way or another.

The whole 'try-and-get-Yamato-to-date' thing worked. You should be glad. Maybe even expect bells in the future, or even little kids running around! Okay, maybe not the latter because I know that the both of you will be furious if we don't stick to our morals and save children for _after_ marriage.

Don't start talking about how I should marry Hikari already. You've told us countless time! We've been together since we were young and we can handle not being married for another couple of years. Our plan is to become financially stable before we head all out…and have a wedding. But that's beside the point; let's put the attention back to Matt and Sora.

I particularly think we all made an awesome team for just the three of us. The whole idea was well worth it to make Yamato finally aware that he's aging and should a fricken' (mind the swearing, grandma) love-life already. I mean, it was okay if he just dated…but I really hadn't expected he'd fall in love with the bartender that suddenly becoming one of the most famous label designers. It's like a modern day Cinderella, you know?

Anyway, thanks for coming over to scare Yamato, care for his love-life and do me a favour in getting back at him for the high-school revenge. The basketball being super-glued to my hands has always scarred me…this was the ultimate comeback. At least it was beneficial! I don't understand why Yamato's still so bad.

Yamato and Sora seem more serious about their relationship compared to Hikari and me. They've already booked an airplane trip next week to visit Mr. Takenouchi. So let's just say everything went according to plan.

I never thought that I'd have my grandparents as accomplices in this one, so thanks. So can you _please_ get off my back about Hikari and me already? I just did you a favour and got Yamato a girlfriend. Don't worry (trust me on this)…you'll have grandkids soon!

Love you lots,

Takeru

PS. I had this terrific idea about writing Yamato and Sora's story and publishing it. But when I told them both, they disagreed. They're such a bad sport. But I think I'll still publish it granted permission or not.

**(a/n)** OMGOLLY! JUST THE EPILOGUE LEFT AND THIS STORY IS OVER!! Hate it or Love it? My parents keep telling me off for not going out and site-seeing the little holiday place we're at…but I wanted to set this weekend aside to finish this story. So I did. I think I might look around now. Hope you enjoyed MFV. Keep your eyes out for the Epilogue which should be out some time soon.

And yeah – just to clarify things – Takeru and the grandparents were playing around the whole time. Cheeky little brother, ain't he? Haha.

I hope this fills your sap meter.

Next Chp: The short Epilogue!


	20. Epilogue

Written: 26.o3.o8

**My Funny Valentine**

**E P I L O G U E – SORA**

- X -

It was then that I was reminded why I loved him. His eyes were closed as he leant against his chair, rocking it back and forth as his fingers ran the tricky notes of that old electric guitar of his. I had never wanted to fall for a musician. I always believed they were hopeless dreamers that had no realistic interpretation of life, but he…well he was _different._

It's quite amusing when you see one of the most wellknown musicians enter your workplace with a hideous disguise and believing that he was undiscoverable. When I first talked to him, I thought he wanted to get in my pants…but to my surprise all he kept talking on about was Alejandro's magnificent playing. Perhaps that was the first sign that I had fallen head over heels for him. I'm not quite so sure myself.

Whenever he performed on a large stage or just to me, he'd drift into his own little world without even knowing it. I always pick it up when his fingers start playing unconsciously and the small notes added here and there, not staying true to the real music – but making it even more spectacular. His brow would be focused, face taut and glistening in absolute concentration. He didn't concentrate too hard because if he did, he would loose the essence and meaning of the song. He was portraying the lyrics so well that I could feel my heart beat increasing in anticipation. Yes, I loved him. There was no denying that. Our marriage hasn't been completely perfect (name any marriage that hasn't…if there has I'd consider getting counselling), but we make it through each and every day.

He's sweet when it comes to the _making-up_ bit. Even if it was a bad sign, I secretly and ridiculously enjoyed these quarrels. Sometimes it would be my fault for our fights, but I'd just be too stubborn to admit it. Nevertheless, after every argument there was a single rose lying on my dresser as a white flag or as a sign asking for forgiveness. It always makes me laugh because it was Yamato's own personal way to let me know that our dispute was over and he was just teasing me because we both knew that my favourite flower was never a rose.

You know? I even kept that fake engraved wedding ring. It turned out to be my official wedding ring in the end. Yamato persisted and said he'd buy me real gold because he felt embarrassed for giving me a cheap thing, but personally I didn't care. Yolei always gushes how sweet we are. She thinks highly of us not following the general public with spending thousands on diamond wedding rings and saying stuff amongst the lines of how we symbolised true love and didn't give a rat's ass about the typical values. I agree, but I depict it in a kinder way than Yolei's 'rat's ass' wording.

It's amazing how the years go by so quickly. It's already our fifth wedding anniversary now. Mimi offered to baby-sit our daughter tonight (and 'Taidye' – as she calls him - was pretty keen with the idea in trying to set her up with their son). Yamato and I figured it would be okay to settle for a small dinner at the place where we met. Once we arrived to the old tavern, he was immediately pulled onto the stage by Alejandro. And now I'm here, watching him perform like one of his crazy fan girls he used to have.

One thing that I've never told Yamato…it was _I_ who had once plastered my walls with his band – not my 'said' friend. At that time we had met, I was well over their band because I become so critical to the genre…but still those high school years pretty much haunt me. I can't _believe_ I even listened to that trash.

It's been so long time since I've seen him last play. It feels refreshing seeing him back in his environment. After his debut, he had gained the number one album for about three months. But after that, he had plummeted down and there was no news since. I guess that's how it is like with music industry. It's so darn unstable. Plus, jazz wasn't the 'in' genre at the moment. It lost its market terribly to rnb, hip hop, house and his old forte – rock. Although, as surprised I was with his collapse in identity…he seemed to take it fine. He always said he preferred singing to a person that understood his lyrics rather than a crowd who sang along without understanding the meaning whatsoever. Plus, when he resigned I had just given birth to our daughter – Saiko. I never pictured it, but he became the 'stay-at-home-father' while I was the woman who easily put bread on the table. He firmly disagreed with getting a babysitter because he wanted to have a good father-daughter relationship in the future. I don't know why he even has to worry, I already know he's a good father.

So yes, it was a good thing to see him back in his natural environment. With the cigarette smoke and rays of light shining through on the stage, he's standing out again. He now was singing in that deep husky voice of his as Alejandro accompanied him by his side, fast fingers keeping up to the vivace beat. A few seconds later the song was over and the jazz bar was radiating with the sound of clapping.

I asked for a drink from the new young bartender. She had short black hair and the same slim body I used to have when I was her age. I was once like her. I ended up retiring from the jazz bar because I couldn't keep with running a world-wide designer label, a husband and a daughter. I think I have to specify the 'husband' category a bit more because Yamato had struggled and needed my full support after Akira's death a couple of years ago. Thankfully, he pulled through…we have to in this world we live in. There's a time to dwell, but there's also a time to move on no matter how difficult the road ahead really is and face what we have to face.

"Your man's still good," Alejandro commented as he went behind the bar and forwarded the drink to me from the new bartender girl.

"He should be…or I wouldn't have married him," I fired back.

"Whoa there," my old friend laughed, Suzanne had come next to her partner. "Hold your horses, dear." I was glad that Alejandro and her were finally together. Ever since I had been hired as a part-time worker at the jazz bar I had noticed the sparks of chemistry between the two. Suzanne tilted her head on a side as her eyes studied the stage. "Looks like they want him to play again."

Her observation was correct when I spotted numerous people screaming for him to stay on stage. Amongst the crowd I latched on a few of the faces. From one glance at them I recognised that they were Yutaka and Yamato's cousin – Catherine. "_ENCORE! ENCORE_!" Catherine cried out energetically. His model cousin had stayed in Japan after announcing that she was seeing Yutaka. I had never expected the two to become a couple – especially since I had considered a scowl to permanently be glued onto the ex-drummer's face. Even a hardcore rock bad-ass drummer could fall in love. This was the proof of it.

"ENCORE!" Yamato's ex-bandmate growled, toppling over the high-pitched shrilly voices. "ENCORE, YOU BASTARD!"

"He's not going to do it," I said surely. "He refuses to do that stuff. He rarely does it these days. I mean-"

I stopped speaking when she saw him from afar, pick up an acoustic set and give it a strum to see if the guitar was tuned.

"What did you just say?" the pianist mocked.

As I was about to tell Alejandro off, I perceived my husband's voice on the microphone. I inwardly groaned, already knowing what tactic he had in store. There were times he could be hell corny. On stage he wasn't afraid to stay things that he wanted to say, so he obviously was taking advantage of this moment.

"Hey guys, I don't usually do encores…but tonight's a special night," he paused. "It's my _actual_ fifth wedding anniversary with my wife tonight!" There were cheers now. "She's sitting right over there! The fourth stool by the bar. Wave, Sora!"

I was blinded with a spotlight of light at my direction. I gingerly waved, and was grateful when the light vanished from in front of my startled eyes.

"So, I thought I'd sing a song for her tonight. If you guys don't mind, that is? Ah…I'll take the cheers as a sign to continue."

He fiddled with the guitar a bit longer until he got into a pattern, chords chiming correctly together. It was just his lone guitar and his voice…but it was still effective. Whatever he did on stage was amazing. And now that I was aware that he was singing a song dedicated to me made me smile tears.

I wanted to hit him on the head when I pieced together what song he was singing from the first sentence that evaporated through the microphone. _Lady, I'm your knight in shining armor/ and I love you. You have made me what I am / and I am yours." _This was one of the songs he picked from my father's country music collection and what I would constantly tease him about when I was younger. Let's just say that my father was an _avid _country music guru. So when he began to sing one of Kenny Roger's songs named 'Lady', I was already collapsing into giggles.

My laughter settled down as I watched him perform. Even if he was singing one of the goofiest sappy country songs just to tease me, he still was pulling it off with his typical flare and style. His acoustic version to the song made it unintentionally capturing and astonishingly brilliant. His own twist to the country sappy tune was interpreted in a captivating way I had never sought possible the cheesy song could. And it worked…

I followed along with the lyrics and before I knew it, it was slowly transiting to the end of the song.

"Go on! Get up there already," Suzanne urged, sly smirk on her lips. But I was already off my stool and heading through the crowd to be in the first row from the stage.

At that moment he opened his eyes and sang the song directly at me.

_"Lady, your love's the only love I need_

_And beside me is where I want you to be_

_'Cause, my love, there's somethin' I want you to know_

_You're the love of my life, you're my lady."_

His strumming died down but he was still sitting motionless on his chair, azure eyes staring statically at me.

"I love you," I moved my mouth silently, emphasing each word to make it understood.

"I know, Sora. I love you too," he said, unashamed, into the microphone. "Happy five years."

He knelt down on his knees so he could give me an embrace. I cried. Whenever it comes down to him, I always find myself crying – but that's a good thing. Definitely a good thing.

- X -

**(FIRSTLY) And it's done! I LOVED WRITING THIS STORY! I wanted to write the Epilogue from Sora's point of view…so this is like a bonus chapter. My last full-length story has been complete on this site. It's been a great ride. There are so many of you people I have known for years, while others I have just only met. Thanks for all of your support. I really mean it. Without you guys being there to support me, I literally wouldn't have made it this far. It'll be sad straying from this fandom. Original works, here I come!**

**Love flipstahhz**

**(SECONDLY) FOR A DETAILED entry on MFV & questions **you want to ask me regarding this story, simply comment meon **http : / stringless-kite . livejournal . com / ****9828 .html** _(take away the spaces and DO NOT include www in front of the URL)_

**(THIRDLY) THANKS TO ALL WHO HAVE READ THIS STORY! ESPECIALLY TO:** _AnimePinkCess, Beachn, BoarderKC, BlackMage16, blue wolf luv red phoenix, blue9989, bRatty-eBonY-cArcAss17, BrownEyesAngel, calilover, Chibi Bish, crest of music, Curtis Zidane Ziraa, hasu86, ickle kat, Inconnu, Isky, Kari Kamiya Takaishi, Karush, Ka-Yu Camui, Kaze-kun, KoumiLoccness, Kuroi Black Nightingale, jerseygrl90, Jillianna, Jstar888, Lain4, little0maggie, MoogleX, Mrs.Ishida-to-you, Mrs. Radcliffe 13, My Name is R.C, Nanita, nickygirl, Night Beauty, Nik-Naks, OMFG-Roach, passer-by, Phoenixe825, p0g0Stick, Poison's Ivy, princess cythera, puasluoma, QinYn, rainingOnyourParade, raspberrycharm., Rewind Soldier, Rheebus, Sabishi Tomo, Sakura Takanouchi, sangkun, Sarina Blade, Serenity984, scorpion05, SkuAg, Smoochynose, Sonora, sora kinomoto, SpiffyCookie, Stars4mel, The Bunny Queen, theladyknight, the-lionness, TheWitchLady, Waltz Turner, Yamora Love n Friendship and Yume-dream._

**(LASTLY) MY NEW STORY ON Fictionpress : **It's going to be another challenge. I've already made a start on it so everything hasn't really come together yet. It's different from any other story I've written and contains the elements of action/adventure. And (of course) romance. Haha. There's a brief synopsis below...

**Clutched On**

**Synopsis: "**_Always lock your doors. You never know when you could be hijacked. It happened to me. He could have hijacked any other car – but it had to be mine."_

www . fictionpress . com / u / 602791 / (without the spaces)

Please check it out if you're interested ;D


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